Chuck vs Auld Lang Syne
by sharpasamarble
Summary: 1x11a: After the Buy More "Holiday Party", Team Chuck is looking forward to some R&R. But an acquaintance from days gone by sends Chuck a Christmas card, triggering a series of events that makes their holidays a stressful time for all concerned..
1. Santa's Not the Only One Coming to Town

**Author's note: "Chuck vs Auld Lang Syne" is a fanfic based upon the "Chuck" television series. The usual disclaimers about network ownership of "Chuck" apply.**

**This episode is written to fall after "Chuck vs the Crown Vic". Think of it as episode 1-11a.**

"Hi! I'm Chuck. Here are a few things you might need to know."

[Music plays quietly in the background. 

Sarah kisses Chuck in front of the "bomb".

Coffin opens. Sarah: "Oh my god!"

Sarah at the Buy More: "Chuck, Bryce is alive."

Chuck saying: "How is this possible?", while the screen shows Bryce in the interrogation room.

Bryce kisses Sarah in Chuck's room. Chuck watches.

Bryce: "Sorry, Chuck." Bryce shoots Chuck.

Chuck, lying on the ground, vest exposed: "…that stings a little."

Sarah looks back and forth between Bryce and Chuck before walking past both.

Bryce: "We'll always have Omaha."

Sarah stands by the window in her hotel room, packed, as the phone rings, Bryce on the other end.

Chuck: "I thought you'd be halfway to Bryce by now."

Sarah: "What made you think that?"

Casey polishes his Crown Vic lovingly.

Sarah storms out of Ellie's apartment. "What happened was a mistake. One I will not make again."

A missile blows up the Crown Vic, to Casey's dismay, overlaid with Casey saying, "I hate this assignment."

Sarah at the Buy More holiday party: "I'm not so good at relationships."

Chuck: "Friends?" Chuck and Sarah share a lingering handshake.

General: "Once the new computer is online, it will be time to take care of Bartowski."

Casey: "I understand my orders, General."

General: "Oh, and John?" [Music stops "Happy holidays"

**Scene I - Casey's apartment**

Sarah, Casey and Chuck stood shoulder-to-shoulder facing the communication monitor in the living area of Casey's apartment. Director Graham could be seen on-screen, arranging some papers on his desk as they finished the briefing.

In his typical gravelly voice, Graham said, "So, it looks like your slate is pretty clean for the time being."

Sarah responded, "That's correct, Director. All our missions have been wrapped up, and Chuck hasn't had any new flashes."

"Well, for once things look neat and tidy. Good work, Agents Walker and Casey."

Chuck was a bit chagrined at the omission of his name. Graham noticed and rolled his eyes. "And you, too, Chuck."

Chuck brightened, but only a little. The way the director said 'Chuck' made it sound like an insult.

Graham continued, "Casey, Walker: you may take shifts watching over the Intersect during the holidays so that you can take some R&R. Work out a schedule between yourselves. Happy Holidays." The director signed off.

Chuck couldn't help but notice the director didn't comment on his R&R. He was tired of being treated like a liability, but played it off, "Wow, R&R. I didn't think you guys needed breaks."

Sarah spoke quickly, her glance at Casey making it obvious she was looking to pre-empt a saracastic remark from Casey. "The last few weeks have been pretty rough on all of us. We could use a break." Her face lit up. "Besides, it's Christmas Eve."

Casey snorted.

Chuck said, in a light tone, "Aw, c'mon, Case." Casey looked menacing at the use of the nickname, causing Chuck to correct himself. "Casey. Casey. Surely there's something you want for Christmas?"

Casey turned to face Chuck, crossing his arms. "A new Crown Vic. Think Santa might have one in his bag?"

"Wow, that wasn't predictable at all. Just how often am I going to be apologizing for that?"

"Dunno. How often are we going to see each other?"

Chuck, sensing a no-win, decided to move the conversation along. "Seriously, there must be something. What do you want … besides a Crown Vic?"

Somewhat surprisingly, Casey actually seemed to give it a little thought. "How about an M60? And don't forget the ammo."

"What, you don't have enough firepower?"

Casey walked over to the armoire, opening it up to reveal a cache of guns mounted in custom foam moldings. "Nah, I think I'm good. But I still want the M60. Sentimental value. Used it at the start of my career."

Chuck gaped at the sight of the collection. "You've got … like … 200 guns there. What, I can't borrow just one for a mission?"

Casey, with a sardonic grin, said, "You'll shoot your eye out."

Chuck looked helplessly at Sarah. While her look was sympathetic, she didn't exactly disagree, either. Chuck glanced back at Casey before exiting without a word. 

Casey grunted with pleasure. He closed up the armoire.

Sarah hesitated for a moment before speaking, "So … how do you want to handle the coverage?"

Casey started to collect the mission folders from the coffee table. "Dealer's choice. We've got about ten days; why don't we just split it down the middle?"

Sarah's face lacked its usual confidence, but her tone came out confidently. "Well, I'm probably not going anywhere, but you're welcome to take off for a few days."

Casey's face grew suspicious. He stopped organizing the folders and turned to confront Sarah. "Really. You plan on hanging around Chuck during the holidays?"

Sarah's adopted an innocent expression on her face; she shrugged, "What's the problem?"

Casey's expression became more demanding.

"Look, Chuck and my cover took a beating over the last couple of months, between the break-up and Bryce and … it wouldn't take a spy to figure out that things were off between Chuck and me. It feels like a good idea to try to shore up the cover while I know we won't be interrupted by a mission."

Casey's eyes narrowed. "Seems like a pretty convenient excuse to hang around Bartowski for a few days. Drink a little eggnog, get your tree trimmed…"

Sarah's eyes rolled. "Look, you asked me to fix things with Chuck, and I did. We agreed to put aside his petty little infatuation and just be friends."

Casey looked intrigued by her choice of words, but he was obviously still suspicious. "Did he, now. A few days ago he was following you around like a lost puppy, and now he's fine with 'friends'?"

Her face grew a little sad before she answered, "I straightened him out on a few things."

"That had to sting poor Chucky more than a little bit."

"Yes, it probably did."

"Well, that explains the sobbing I heard through the bugs in his room."

Sarah looked uncertainly at Casey for the slightest of instants; she quickly covered it up, her eyes becoming hard. "Enough. You helped me in a moment of weakness, and for that I'm grateful. But that doesn't give you the right to turn around and treat me like this. Back off."

"Not yet." Casey moved in a little closer, giving her an intense look as he lectured, "You realize hanging around Captain Awesome and the Chuck-tones for the holidays is about the worst thing you could do for your cover, right? You'll drink a little wine, and they'll ask you questions about your family and Christmases back home. Before you know it, your cover will fall off faster than a dress on prom night."

Sarah's jaw locked. While Casey was correct in assessing the risk, a weak cover was a risk as well. Ultimately, this was her call. "My cover is my problem, and I'll fix it. Don't tell me how to do my job."

Casey's expression showed that, as far as he was concerned, the matter wasn't close to being closed.

Outside, Chuck walked back from the mail box through the courtyard, lugging a stack of mail. Chuck stopped near the fountain, ignoring the catalogs in favor of flipping through the small ream of Christmas cards. "Ellie. Ellie and Devon. Devon and Ellie. Devon and Ellie. Ellie. Chuck!" 

Chuck tore into the envelope eagerly. Inside was a very nice holiday card, embossed and elegant, with a set of generic holiday images alongside the words "Seasons Greetings". Chuck opened the card, exposing a folded piece of computer paper. Glancing down at the signature on the card, Chuck's heart sank a little. "Aw, Liniman. What are you writing to brag about this year?"

Chuck read the note inside the card aloud. 

Dear Chuck, 

Thought you might be interested in hearing how my year went. As you know, I tend travel a lot, but I'll be back at the home office in Los Angeles over the holidays, and would love to share some career advice. 

Best regards, 

Shawn Liniman

Chuck gave an insulted laugh, looking as though he wanted to crumple up the card. Restraining himself, he instead unfolded the letter. At the top of the page was a picture of Shawn at some type of industry event. He was dressed in a custom-fit suit, all grins as he shook hands with somebody handing him an award in front of a podium. Chuck sighed, his expression becoming a bit forlorn. He had pictured himself in scenes like this while back at Stanford. 

Chuck took a closer look at the picture. His eyes caught the words "DCI Enterprises", and then locked onto a gentleman standing to applaud in the picture. His eyes rolled slightly back as he started to flash.

A tall barren tree standing in a field.

A picture of the gentleman in the picture.

A series of file documents listing his personal information. 

A scan of a government defense contract. 

A page listing wire transfers for large sums of money coming into DCI Enterprises.

The tall barren tree in a field. 

Chuck snapped out of his trance. As he wrapped his head around what had just happened and what it meant, his expression became downtrodden. Shoulders slumped, he headed back to Casey's apartment and entered without knocking.

Inside, Casey and Sarah were having a tense conversation; both looked fiercely upset with the other. Chuck caught the tail end of what Casey is saying, "…and start thinking like an agent instead of a..." Casey cut himself off when he noticed Chuck had returned. Chuck was surprised to find the two of them arguing like that, and his face reflected that.

Before Chuck could speak, Casey angrily demanded, "Do you always enter somebody else's apartment without knocking?"

"Oh, that coming from the guy who spends his evenings listening to the bugs he planted in my room."

"Fair point."

Sarah's face had suddenly calmed; she tried to smooth things over. "We were just trying to figure out how to split up time off over the holidays."

Her comment reminded Chuck why he had returned. "Well, that may not happen. An old acquaintance of mine is coming to town, and I think he's been more naughty than nice." Hand dejectedly on one hip, he tossed the letter and Christmas card on the table.

**Scene II - Casey's Apartment**

Sarah and Casey stood in front of the computer screen, having brought the director back online. He looked irritated. Well, more irritated than usual.

"You're telling me Chuck flashed in the last ten minutes?"

Sarah answered, "Sorry, Director, we still don't know what triggers the flashes. This time it was a Christmas card, of all things.

Graham's eyes narrowed. "And where exactly is the Intersect?"

"He had to get back home. He told his sister he was taking a walk to give him an excuse to attend the earlier briefing, and he had already been gone too long."

Graham obviously was looking for something to justify his irritation, but was finding nothing. "OK. Brief me on the flash."

Casey said, "Shawn Liniman is an acquaintance of Chuck's from high school. He currently has a position as a high-level executive at a defense contractor called DCI Enterprises. Intel from the Intersect suggests this contractor has received a series of large cash transfers of dubious origin."

Graham looked skeptical. "That doesn't seem like much. Those transfers could be perfectly legitimate."

"True. However, there is also a picture showing a man Chuck identifies as Andon Minh in proximity to Liniman." 

Sarah added, "Andon Minh has been rumored to be involved with the sale of classified American intelligence on the black market. I know there have been several investigations into his dealings, but nothing has come of them."

Graham mulled over their report for a minute. "Well, there's certainly smoke here, but I don't see any fire. What do you recommend?"

Sarah said, "I suggest that Chuck accepts this guy's invitation to meet up for dinner over the holidays. That's about as low-risk as it comes: the meeting will be in a public place, and we can select the location."

Graham looked doubtful. "Do you really think Chuck can handle the meeting with Liniman?" His tone clearly conveyed his opinion on the matter.

"I'll go with him as his girlfriend to keep him on course, and provide protection in case this guy is dirty. Besides, the obnoxious little note this guy wrote suggests he's out to prove something to Chuck, so it seems likely that we'll be able to use that to our advantage."

"Casey?"

"I agree. But before they meet, we should set up reconnaissance at this guy's office to see if we can dredge up anything. We can give ourselves a few days by scheduling dinner on the 28th or 29th."

"Seems like a solid plan. We'll do some research on our end to see what else we can dig up. Just make sure you have something before you move on the guy; I don't want a repeat of the Kirk situation." With a final warning look to emphasize his last point, Graham signed off.

Sarah turned to Casey, and said, "Once we get the equipment set up, you're going to need to take on a fair bit of the reconnaissance work.

Casey looked at Sarah questioningly, "And why is that?"

Sarah shook her head. "There's no way Ellie will buy any excuse from Chuck or me for missing any part of Christmas. Not after Thanksgiving."

**Scene III - Casa Bartowski**

Chuck walked back into Casa Bartowski, lugging the mail. Devon and Ellie were eating breakfast at the dining room table, while Morgan lounged on the couch, reading the comics.

Ellie looked up as Chuck closed the door. "Good walk?"

Chuck responded a little gloomily as he strode across the room, "So-so. Looks like it's clouding up a little." He dropped the mail onto the kitchen table, and then headed back to the living room to flop down on the opposite end of the couch from Morgan. Devon began to leaf through the mail, while Ellie followed Chuck back into the living room.

Ellie, as she sat in a chair, asked, "Everything all right?"

Chuck realized he was acting fairly grumpy after discovering there would be a mission during the holidays. Not only was he upset about losing the break, he wasn't looking forward to engineering a meeting with Shawn, who apparently hadn't gotten any less obnoxious since his high school days. 

Since he couldn't discuss that with his sister, he did his best to shake off his bad mood. "Yeah, I just found out I have to work a little more during the holidays than I wanted." 

Ellie looked at Chuck questioningly, "How much more?"

Chuck, a little lost in thought about his flash, didn't consider his answer very carefully. "Oh, another shift or two." Distracted by Liniman, he completely missed the undertone of the question.

Ellie got a determined expression on her face. "Devon, can you join us for a sec?"

Awesome boomed, "Sure thing, babe." He picked up the sheaf of Christmas cards and headed into the living room. Without really looking, Devon took a seat on Chuck's end of the couch, forcing Chuck into the middle of the couch. Morgan chuckled at something he read in the comics.

Ellie stood opposite the couch and cleared her throat. "I would like your full attention for the next five minutes."

Devon muttered, "Uh huh." Chuck nodded, still staring off into space. Morgan nudged Chuck with his elbow. "So, has Dilbert jumped the shark, or what?"

Ellie cleared her throat again, this time loudly. All three looked up. "Full. Attention. Now!"

The three immediately stopped what they are doing.

Ellie began pacing back and forth, and lectured the three, "As you may recall, this year's Thanksgiving wasn't exactly the family experience we've come to know and love." She turned to face them. "There will be no repeat of that over Christmas." She looked forcefully at all three of them in turn.

Devon protested, "But, babe, I didn't…"

Ellie cut him off with a mock-sweet smile, "No. Repeat. Of. Thanksgiving." 

It appeared Devon wanted to say something else, but instead just nodded as she stared him down. Sensing she had his agreement, Ellie turned around to grab some papers off the kitchen counter. Chuck whispered, "Smart move."

Devon whispered back with an intimidated expression: "I just hope this isn't a relapse."

Chuck looked at him, and with all sincerity said, "I really, really doubt it." Devon didn't look convinced.

Ellie returned and handed out copies to each of them. "These are the itineraries for the festivities. Now, I understand that you have girlfriends." She looked at Morgan. "I don't always understand how…"

Morgan replied, "Aw, don't be jealous." His voice shifted to a loud whisper as he shook his head disparagingly. "It doesn't look good on you."

Ellie pressed the palms of her hands downwards as she adopted a disgusted look. "Ew. Anyway, you are welcome," looking at Morgan, " or strongly encouraged," looking at Chuck, "to bring them. Activities that are not optional are marked with a star."

Devon's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's a whole lot of stars."

Chuck loved his sister, but he couldn't resist poking a little fun at her. "Hey, I'm thinking that Pictionary needs to start a little later than 9:09; you didn't really allot enough time for the 'Eggnog and Holiday Cheer' bullet."

Morgan jumped in, "Yeah, I can't get my Holiday Cheer on in only 11 minutes."

"Definitely need, at least…"

"…what, 17?"

"I was thinking 19."

"Yeah, that works." 

They both turned back towards Ellie. Chuck proposed, "So, 19 minutes for egg nog?"

Ellie gave Chuck a sarcastic little smile, then promptly ignored the teasing. "If you have any, and I mean any, potential conflicts, tell me today." She smiled sweetly. "Hey, now you know."

Devon stood up. "And knowing is half the battle." Devon walked over to kiss Ellie, and boomed out, "Awesome."

Ellie, still sugary sweet, said, "Don't forget to share the plans with Sarah and Anna!" Devon and Ellie headed back to their bedroom.

Chuck sighed, staring at the list. He just hoped the mission wouldn't interfere with the itinerary. "I'm thinking knowing is a little less than half the battle here." He idly wondered when he would find time for the Buy More.

Morgan, still staring at the list, replied, "No kidding. That felt like a mission briefing."

The term 'mission briefing' caught Chuck off guard; he fought to keep his expression neutral. He managed to stammer, "I don't know that 'mission briefing' is …"

"Dude, how the hell am I going to tell Anna that Ellie planned out our entire Christmas?"

Chuck was more than a little relieved. One of his biggest fears was that Morgan would discover his other life; while he wasn't certain exactly how Morgan might react, he knew the result wouldn't be good. 

To complete the change of subject, he snagged the comics from Morgan and fanned out the paper. "Don't know, but you can figure it out as you head to work. You're opening the store in twenty minutes. Better push some pedals."

Morgan looked at Chuck in disbelief. "Crap. When did my schedule change?"

Chuck studied the paper with a remarkable lack of concern. "After you asked me to set it up so you and Anna would be on the same shift together."

"What was I thinking?"

"You were thinking just fine. Remembering seems to be a different story."

"I've got my morning routine. I can't lose that. It's the platform from which I attack the day."

Chuck drily responded, "You'll survive without your energy drink and hour of playing 'Call of Duty'."

"Chuck, you can't build a house without a good foundation."

Chuck cradled the paper with his legs so he could wave a hand without looking up, "Goodbye, Morgan."

Morgan got more exasperated. "Can you at least give me a ride?"

"Can't. Sarah's meeting me here in fifteen minutes, and I'm giving her a lift to work."

Morgan summoned the effort for one last "Crap!" before dragging himself off the couch. As he walked away, Ellie came back into the living room.

A thought occurred to Chuck; he finally looked up from the paper to call after Morgan, "And don't forget to sterilize the break-room table."

Morgan waved back without looking as he shut the door to the apartment. Ellie looked curiously at Chuck.

Chuck's expression clearly indicated that she really didn't want to know. To be safe, he warned her, "Don't ask."

Ellie looked amused and faintly sickened. "I won't." She plopped down onto the couch where Morgan was sitting. "So, how are you and Sarah? You two have seemed a little rocky lately."

Chuck's eyes got a little wild, but he kept his eyes on the paper until he settled down a little. Trying to sound calm, he said, "Nah, Sarah and I are fine."

Ellie's eyes clearly showed she was not buying it. "Really. You two haven't spent a lot of time together lately. Heck, she never spends the night."

Once Chuck realized what she was implying, his expression made it clear that he felt slightly violated. He looked up from the paper to stare her down. "I thought that last part was none of your business."

"What makes you say that?"

"I'm directly quoting you from our double-date at the sushi restaurant."

Ellie waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, that. I thought Devon was embarrassing Sarah."

Chuck responded drily, "You obviously don't know Sarah that well. Besides, she has spent the night."

"The one time."

"Yeah, that was a weird night."

Ellie winced. "Sorry about that."

Chuck, realizing what she was talking about, reassured her, "No, no, not that. Besides, I know you do your best to dodge mostly unexplained life-threatening illnesses that muck up my sex life."

Ellie's smile reappeared when she understood he wasn't upset. "Well, I am your sister; it's the least I can do."

Chuck deadpanned, "Thanks, sis. You're the best. No, really. I'm touched." She threw a pillow at him, then laughed.

However, Ellie was not to be deterred. "So what was so weird about that night … aside from my random babbling and collapse on the couch?"

Chuck thought a moment before responding. "That was the first time I think I recognized that Sarah and I had some…" Chuck paused while searching for the right words. "…relationship issues."

Ellie looked concerned. "Such as…?"

Chuck thought for a moment. "I don't know … I guess that's when I really realized that the two of us had different expectations about how things were supposed to work."

"And you've worked through that now?"

Chuck's expression became just a little melancholy; he looked down and away from Ellie. "I think we have an understanding now."

Ellie's brow wrinkled. "You don't seem convinced." She was obviously unable to reconcile his tone with his words.

Chuck again paused, badly wanting to share what he's going through with his sister, but he knowing he could not. He started and stopped a couple of times, with Ellie looking more expectant each time he began. After a long silence, he finally figured out a way to tell the truth and confide in Ellie at the same time. "Some times … it doesn't even feel like we're really dating. That we're good as friends, but not as more than that."

Ellie's expression showed that she understood. Chuck looked a little relieved. The hardest part about his other life was not being able to share things with his sister.

"That's always a tough one." Ellie processed what Chuck just told her. Finally, she advised, "Look, at the end of the day, the best course is usually just to be yourself. Just make sure she knows you are still interested."

Chuck's face was a picture of uncertainty. Being yourself and being an agent were often mutually exclusive, as he had found out so frequently over the past months. Plus, he doubted he had the strength to put himself out there for Sarah again, especially after Sarah had been so clear that things weren't going anywhere. Of course, he couldn't tell Ellie any of that. The whole situation just stunk.

Ellie, sensing Chuck was uncomfortable, changed the subject: "So, have you figured out what you're getting Sarah for Christmas?"

Chuck looked relieved at the subject change. He leaned back on the couch, opening the paper again as he responded, "Already covered. I got her an alarm clock."

Ellie's face fell. "Oh, Chuck," she said with a hopeless tone.

Chuck looked up at her tone with an expression that clearly said, "What?"

**Scene IV - Buy More**

The store bustled with shoppers finishing their last-minute Christmas shopping. The green-shirted salesmen eagerly covered the floor near the big-ticket items, sensing the opportunity to make some easy sales. Jeff and Lester sat behind the Nerd Herd desk as Chuck entered the store, the pair appearing surprisingly dedicated to their jobs.

About halfway up the aisle to the circular desk, an aggravated voice cut through the din. "Bartowski!" 

Chuck stopped and turned towards the source of the call. Big Mike was angrily striding down the "easy listening" CD aisle, his usual grouchy expression on his face and his tense shoulders lifted up towards his ears.

Chuck wasn't too worried; Big Mike vented at Chuck an average of four times a day. "And a 'Happy Holidays' to you, Big Mike. How can I help?"

Big Mike demanded, "What have I told you about letting Grimes open the store?"

Chuck did his best not to flinch; he knew he might be sailing into dangerous waters here. "Tha-at it's about as good an idea as letting Jeff be the designated driver?"

The answer did nothing to lower Big Mike's blood pressure. "That's right. So why did Grimes open today?"

Most days, Big Mike holed up in his office until at least lunch time. Chuck took a chance that he had nothing on Morgan. "Why, did he do something wrong?"

Big Mike deflated a bit. "Well, no."

"Glad to hear it. I'll pass along that you noticed he did a bang-up job opening."

Big Mike, looked a little confused, but then convinced himself that was his point all along. In a much calmer voice, he ordered, "Do that. I'll see you on the 26th."

"Anything you say, Big Mike," giving Big Mike a three-fingered salute as he walked away. Disaster averted, he continued back towards the Nerd Herd desk.

As Big Mike ambled towards the back of the store, he ran into Morgan along the way. "Bang-up job opening today, Grimes."

Morgan looked pleasantly surprised at the praise. "Thanks, Big Mike." He looked pretty pleased with himself as he met up with Chuck at the desk. "Looks like you may have some competition as top dog around here soon, Chuck. Big Mike likes what he sees."

Chuck set his bag on the counter: "Well, that's only because Big Mike never leaves his office, and I basically pulled a Jedi mind trick on him. A couple of minor criticisms." Chuck pulled a set of keys from his pocket and tossed them to Morgan. "You left the keys hanging in the front door, the sales display for Guitar Hero Guitars at the front of the store is completely empty, and we need more than one register open on one of the busier shopping days of the year. But I guess that was all I saw wrong … in the front ten feet of the store."

"I'm on it." Morgan backed away, muttering, "These are not the droids you're looking for," while waving his hand dramatically.

Chuck turned to eye Jeff and Lester suspiciously. Both seemed to be intently working as they should be. Something was clearly up. "And what's with you two?"

Lester briefly looked up from whatever he was doing, his face all innocence, "I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean?"

"C'mon. You never work this hard. What's going on."

Lester looked up, knowing he was busted. He leaned over conspiratorially, causing Chuck to lean over as well. In a low voice, Lester said, "Well, Jeff dressed up like Santa and set up a collection bell for the March of Dimes outside the store."

"I don't see the problem there."

Jeff, his face as blank as usual, leaned over to say, "Neither did we, until a real March of Dimes Santa showed."

Chuck's face went completely slack.

Jeff sat back up as he continued, "Big Mike pretty much freaked."

"That's pretty low, even for you two."

Lester whispered behind his hand, "I tried some of his eggnog," pointing surreptitiously at Jeff.

Chuck wasn't exactly surprised that Lester would try to blame Jeff, even if it basically meant admitting to being drunk while at the Buy More. "Great. And so this," Chuck waved his hand in a circle at the two, "is your effort to get back on Big Mike's good side."

Jeff said slickly, "Yep. We actually need to look productive."

A thought occurred to Lester. With a hopeful smile, he said, "Unless you want to use your Jedi mind powers on him again."

Chuck picked up a clipboard and started checking the list of jobs for the day. "Sorry, fellas, I'm not going over to the dark side today. So how long can I expect this to last; we may need to staff down if you guys are actually getting work done."

Lester, completely missing the insult, explained, "Only until Big Mike heads home for the holidays. He always ducks out a few hours early, so I figure we'll be home free before too long."

Jeff's face lit up as he declared, "And then the Christmas tradition of Beer Trek will continue."

Lester claimed, "Dibs on Deanna"

"Dude, you always get Deanna." The two started a heated debate over who had dibs.

When Big Mike always checked out early for the holidays, the atmosphere in the store always deteriorated quickly. Last year, a drunken group of Buy More employees had stumbled out of the home theater room about an hour before closing. They accosted the remaining shoppers with bad imitations of the Borg, saying things in monotone voices such as, "Need is irrelevant. Resistance is futile. You will purchase that toaster oven."

Most of the customers were not amused, although one submitted a job application on the spot.

Chuck's mind worked quickly to head off that kind disaster, and he interrupted the debate, "Bad news, guys. Big Mike has some reports the Buy More home office is clamoring for, so he's locked in his office trying to get them finished. He isn't skipping out early today."

Both their faces fell. Lester forced out a despondent, "Aw, man."

Chuck acted as if an idea just struck him. "Look, just keep your heads down and get some good work done. I'll let Big Mike know you're kicking butt. Those reports can't take too long; he should be gone in a few hours."

Lester looked like a beaten man. "Well, I'd better head back to the cage and finish a few jobs."

Jeff got up and stretched lazily. "I'll go with you. I can only pretend to work for so long before I need a nap."

Chuck said. "I know I'll hate myself for asking, but exactly how lazy a person does someone need to be to find faking work to be tiring?"

Jeff, a slack-jawed expression on his face, answered, "Somewhere between a 'sloth' and a 'deadbeat'."

His eyes narrowing, Chuck responded, "It's frightening that you've thought about this." Jeff shrugged.

Jeff and Lester turned to head to the back of the store. As they walked, Lester asked, "I thought we decided on 'sloth' and 'malingerer'?" 

"No, I wanted 'laggard', and you wanted 'malingerer'. So we compromised on 'deadbeat'."

Lester's voice faded into the background noise of panicked shoppers. "Ah, that's right. Although I still have a strange fondness for 'layabout'…"

Morgan re-appeared, staring at Jeff and Lester as he walked up to the desk. "Those two have the weirdest conversations."

Casey passed by on the other side of the desk, pushing a dolly filled with iPod docks. He interjected, "This coming from the pair who spent hours discussing the sandwich they would take to a desert island." He continued on towards the front of the store without missing a step.

Morgan shuddered. "That guy has spooky hearing." Suddenly looking puzzled, he asked, "By the way, how did he know about that?"

Chuck froze for a moment. "I asked him his opinion." In an attempt to pre-empt Morgan's next question and being forced to lie again, Chuck quickly changed the subject. "By the way, you might be interested to know that I am going to hell."

Morgan chucked him on the shoulder. "Well, sorry to hear about your immortal soul, buddy; be sure to say 'hi' to Bryce for me. Out of curiosity, what did you do?"

The Larkin reference brought up some unpleasant emotions, but he pushed them back down. "Ah, nothing. I just lied to Jeff and Lester to get them to do some work."

Morgan shifted his gaze to the front of the store. "Well, do you believe in karma?"

Chuck shook his head, looking up at Morgan briefly from the clipboard. "Not really. Why?"

Morgan leaned back against the counter. "Because Shawn Liniman just strolled in. You're clearly being punished."

Chuck spun around to see Liniman heading down the center aisle towards them. He wore an expensive suit and a smug grin.

Chuck's expression grew a bit dazed, and his response was a little slower than usual. "OK, maybe I believe in karma a little." He silently wondered how Shawn had found out he worked at the Buy More. Maybe Buy More finally got their web site for their stores up, including the Nerd Herd roster. Or maybe Shawn had called Ellie at home. He made a mental note to look into it.

Liniman was a good eight inches shorter than Chuck, and his dark hair was held into place by a little too much gel. His close-set eyes focused on Chuck, leaving him only occasionally to glance around the store. The size of his smirk increased. Chuck stole a quick glance around the store, looking for Casey, but he had disappeared.

As Liniman walked up, not only did he choose to not offer a hand to shake, but he deliberately stuck his hands into his pockets to emphasize that fact. Without preamble, he said, "Guess Buy More is having a two-for-one special today. Why am I not surprised to see Morgan Grimes toiling away in mediocrity as well."

Chuck focused on his clipboard, looking up only occasionally. "Nine years since we've seen each other and that's how you say 'hello'?" He knew he should be setting up a meeting with Liniman, but he didn't see how he was going to make that happen. Shawn was clearly interested in flaunting his success and little else. Chuck chose to feign disinterest, although Liniman was making that fairly easy with his attitude. 

However, Morgan couldn't resist jumping in, quipping, "But if you ever decide to switch careers, you should consider greeting-card writing. Seriously."

Liniman utterly missed the point. "Switch careers? Do you have any idea how much I make?"

Chuck, still intensely studying the job listing on the clipboard, instantly shot back, "Do you have any idea how little we care?"

"It doesn't eat at you even a little, Chuck? You two working at the Buy More, me a successful businessman…"

Morgan's eyes shot back and forth in a poor imitation of a computer working. "Checking … checking … nope, not even a little bit."

"C'mon, Bartowski. You were the big man on campus back in high school: president of the math club, valedictorian…"

At that, a revelation came to Chuck. "After all these years, it still eats you up that I beat you out for valedictorian, doesn't it. That's what all this is about: a plaque missing from your trophy shelf."

Liniman got defensive in a hurry. ".005 points between our GPAs, Bartowski. That's all."

Chuck looked Liniman dead in the eye, "Guess you shouldn't have played it safe and ditched that physics class. An 'A' would have put you over the top."

Liniman shrugged, shaking off his anger. "It doesn't matter: it turns out GPA wasn't a very good predictor of success, was it. I mean, look at you. Have you managed to do anything with your life?"

Sarah walked up in her Weinerlicious uniform and kissed Chuck on the cheek. Putting her arm around Chuck, she turned her blue eyes curiously towards Shawn and asked, "Hey, Chuck, who's your friend?" 

As Shawn picked his jaw up off the floor, Chuck whispered to Morgan, "I'm believing in karma more and more every minute."


	2. He Knows If You've Been Bad or Good

**Scene V - DCI Enterprises**

Casey casually strolled towards the side entrance of a dated multistory office building, dressed in a dark suit and carrying a wide black leather briefcase. His carefully crafted demeanor suggested a business executive whose mind was elsewhere. Closer inspection would have revealed the occasional survey of the surrounding area to ensure he wasn't attracting attention.

The side entrance had a badge reader, and although the DCI badge Casey sported off his pocket looked official, it wouldn't grant him entrance. However, this entrance was where the smokers slipped out on their breaks, and there was no guard station. 

Four smokers loitered on an expanded section of the concrete sidewalk near the door, two of them engaged in a conversation, the other two pensively staring off into space on their own. A subtle expression on Casey's faceshowed thathe was judging each of them for their nicotine habit as he timed his approach to the side door.

A pretty brunette woman in a maroon executive suit stubbed out her cigarette in the ash tray on top of the trash can on the patio. Casey sped up slightly so he could tailgate her through the door. She swiped her badge; the reader gave a loud beep and the light turned from red to green. She pulled the door open; Casey had timed his walk perfectly, so he was there in time to hold the door for her. He didn't count on her noticing, or caring, that he didn't swipe his own badge as he tried to enter.

"Hey, don't forget to swipe your badge: we can't afford another audit." If Casey somehow had any doubts about her seriousness from her tone, the look on her face would have dispelled them.

Casey smiled at her, managing to make it look fairly genuine. "Sorry. I'm running late and I wasn't thinking." Casey pulled the badge off his pocket and reached back through the doorway to swipe it against the reader. The magnetic device in the card triggered a reading and a beep. The woman was inside and couldn't see the panel, and the smokers were facing away from the building, so nobody noticed that the light on the panel stayed red.

The woman smiled her thanks, and headed inside, Casey close behind. Casey stopped for a moment to put the badge back on his shirt, re-orienting the camera in the oversized clip and giving the woman time to move further ahead at the same time. He started moving down the hallway again, his long strides appearing casual but eating up ground at a deceptive pace.

Chuck was getting a little seasick because of the way the camera bounced around as Casey walked. He was sitting with Sarah in the back of the black Suburban, parked towards the back of the lot next to Sarah's Porsche. Sarah had changed out of her Weinerlicious outfit into a semi-professional, form-fitting outfit in case Casey needed any help. Chuck didn't bother to change out of his Buy More gear: it was already semi-professional, and besides, he knew he wasn't going anywhere.

The back of the Suburban wasn't exactly made for this kind of reconnaissance work, but since a plain black van would have looked out-of-place in an office parking lot, they made it work. Sarah and Chuck sat in the third row to minimize the chance of anyone seeing them or their equipment. 

With all the equipment beside them, there wasn't much room for the two of them, so their thighs were usually pressed together and their arms often touched. There was probably enough room for Sarah to slide over a little, and while Chuck decided it was good thing that Sarah felt comfortable enough with him again to sit like that and not be worried, she really should know what that would do to him. Chuck tried very hard not to take things the wrong way. 

"Remind me where the stairs are?" Casey whispered into the mike on his watch as he walked.

Sarah checked the building plans, and activated her mic. "Three more doors up on the left. Take them to the fifth floor." She alternated between checking Casey's progress on the monitor and keeping an eye out for anyone who might notice the two of them through the tinted windows.

Casey found the door to the stairwell, with its dingy white walls and industrial looking steps. With Casey taking the steps two at a time, Chuck decided to take his eyes off the monitor. There was just too much bouncing and too little chance of flashing on anything in the stairwell. He declared, "Next time, I'm taking a Dramamine before I do this."

Sarah gave him a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry; you get used to it after a while." 

She also took the opportunity to take a break, stretching with her backed arched a little to work out the kinks. Chuck diverted his eyes; he definitely was getting distracted. In fact, he was so distracted that, for the briefest of moments, he thought Sarah caught him peeking at her out of the corner of her eye. He even thought he saw her smile grow slightly. He desperately tried to keep his focus on the mission ... and to find a safe place for his eyes.

Sarah slowly unwound from her stretch and took another quick look around the parking lot. Nobody was close to the SUV. She casually asked, "So, what does your sister have planned for the holidays?"

Chuck rose up awkwardly in the cramped space so he could fish out the folded itinerary from his pants pocket. "See for yourself."

Surprised, Sarah unfolded and scanned the paper. "Wow. Your sister sure is thorough."

Casey was at the door to the fifth floor, so Chuck's eyes were back on the monitor. He joked, "Yeah, Morgan and I thought she had too little time for the eggnog and the tree-trimming." If Chuck had been looking at Sarah, he might have caught her blushing slightly; she collected herself quickly.

Chuck continued unaware, "I was trying to reduce the time allotment for Pictionary, figuring that you could just trigger a few flashes and we'd be done in no time."

"I'm not sure my art skills are that good."

"That's OK; once upon a time I was looking forward to a week of forgetting that I've got this stuff in my head. I'm probably better off with at least a night off."

Casey listened at the door to minimize the chance of running into anyone in the halls. When he thought the timing was right, he quietly opened the door and headed out into the hallway, walking as if he belonged there.

He was in a long, straight hallway with a series of doors along both sides, interrupted only occasionally by some generic art hanging on the walls. A man in a crisp white shirt and suit pants approached from the other direction; they heard Casey give a perfunctory greeting as the other man nodded. 

Sarah said, "Unfortunately, our job is a 24/7 thing. If we're not on a mission, we're maintaining a cover. And speaking of covers, we've got a little repair work to do to ours over the holidays."

Chuck took a quick look at her, shooting her a knowing smile. "Ah. So we're to be a little touch-feely at the festivities?"

Sarah nodded, affirming, "Definitely a little touchy-feely, but mostly we should just make sure to hang out near each other and have a good time. Just follow my lead."

"Will do," Chuck responded, once again focusing on the monitor.

Casey passed by several doors and a secretary station, nodding to the prim middle-aged woman seated behind the desk. According to their reconnaissance, Liniman's office should be a little further down the hall.

A thought occurred to Chuck. "Hey, that reminds me. Ellie called me on my giving you an alarm clock, and to be a good boyfriend, I think I need to up the ante a little."

Sarah gave Chuck a surprised look. "Wow, you actually admitted to your sister that you got your girlfriend of three months an alarm clock for Christmas?" she asked, a bit mockingly.

"What can I say, she's a natural interrogator and she pulled it out of me. If you ever need a 'good cop', she's your man." 

Sarah wasn't going to let him off that easily. "An alarm clock for a girlfriend of three months; what a romantic."

Casey stopped outside a door; the name plate on the wall read, "S. Liniman". The door was partially open; Casey knocked quietly before opening it. The office was empty, but the stained glass desk lamp and the computer were both on. Casey slipped in and shut the door. He was gambling that Liniman wouldn't return soon, but he should be out of there inside five minutes.

Chuck's eyes were glued to the monitor, trying to catch anything that might make him flash. "OK, if our relationship were remotely real, what should I be getting you?"

"Actually, I already took care of that."

"You bought yourself a gift from me? Now who's the romantic?"

Sarah looked a little abashed. With a sheepish grin, she conceded, "All right, all right."

Chuck grinned, and Sarah grinned back. It felt good to have a normal conversation with Sarah. Chuck was surprised that a conversation about their cover could feel "normal", but it did. Her look lingered a little longer than he would have expected, and then Sarah's business-like manner returned, although she somehow seemed a little more playful than usual.

"I am getting you a watch, and you are getting me a heart-shaped necklace with a compartment for a picture." And then Sarah's grin was back in full force. "It's a little cheesy, but then again, so are you. So it's a perfect fit."

Chuck rolled his eyes. "Great. You bought yourself a gift, and I'll get dinged for it. This is getting better and better. So, what spy gadgets are in the watch?"

"Nothing," Sarah responded, shrugging her shoulders.

"Really? No spy gadgets at all? 'Cause I was really hoping for the Bond-style watch laser, although that really is more of a three-year spy anniversary gift than a three-month gift."

"Nope, no spy gadgets. These are just props, designed to convince people that our three-month relationship is still going strong."

Both of them watched Casey for a minute. He had settled on mounting the video camera on top of the cabinet for the white board across the room from Liniman's desk.

While Casey was installing the camera, there wasn't much for Chuck to scan. He leaned back, his eyes glazing over, pondering Sarah's last statement. His tone was completely serious when he said, "I guess that is what's so weird about all of this: the whole thing is like a big theatre production … with the occasional car chase, ticking time bomb or body count."

"Well, that just goes with the job." Her face told Chuck she considered it no big deal.

Chuck disagreed. He looked over at her curiously. "How do you do it? How do you live a life where nothing is what it seems?"

"We made a choice to defend something greater than ourselves. That involves sacrifices."

Chuck turned to face her as best he could in the tight space, his arm resting along the back of the bench seat. He countered, "And don't get me wrong: that's unbelievably noble, and nobody could ever thank you enough for that. I just wish you could have something that's real."

Sarah's face showed just how much the comment genuinely touched her. She looked down for a moment before looking back at Chuck; she said with complete sincerity, "Moments like this are pretty real. Thanks, Chuck." Her stare was intense. Chuck felt he should look away, but he couldn't.

The moment was over all too soon. Casey finished installing the camera above the white board across from Liniman's desk, and whispered "Test camera," into his watch. 

Sarah flicked on the other monitor; the reception came in clearly. "Camera 1 hot," she confirmed into the microphone. 

Casey quickly placed a magnetic bug on the base of the lamp on the desk, and Chuck turned on the receiver to ensure he could hear Casey's movements in the room. The equipment checked out.

Casey closed up his bag and slipped out the door, carefully placing the door about as open as it was before. Sarah and Chuck turned on the recording equipment, and turned off the monitors and the receiver. They hopped out of the SUV, Chuck offering Sarah his hand before closing the Suburban door. Taking a quick glance around, they climbed into Sarah's Porsche, and headed back to the Buy More plaza. Lunch break was just about over.

**Scene VI: Casa Bartowski**

The apartment was decked out for the party. The Christmas tree gleamed by the front window, and tinsel garland of various colors lined the walls and the columns. The apartment was comfortably full of smiling people, many with a drink or a plate of food in hand.

Ellie looked happy as could be playing hostess. She circled the room, replacing hors d'oeuvres on the trays of food and taking time to speak with everyone.

Devon was telling stories over by the kitchen counter, engaging each of the people around him and cracking everyone up as he tended bar.

Over in a corner, Casey looked out of place with his dark suit and cosmopolitan. He politely listened to a pair of doctors from the hospital, managing to look neither overly engaged nor bored.

Chuck was sitting on one end of the couch, wearing a nice-but-somewhat-casual outfit that Sarah helped him put together, comprised of a red-and-white striped button down and a pair of dark brown cords. Another couple sat to his left, while Sarah sat on the arm of the couch, wearing a cute little green top with a pair of black pants and heels. They talked and laughed with Morgan and Anna; Anna sat in the chair, legs folded under her. Morgan lounged on the ground in front of the chair; Anna reached down and ran her fingers through Morgan's hair affectionately.

Morgan leaned over and asked mischievously, "Hey, Chuck, do you think we should tell Ellie we're behind schedule?"

Sarah glanced down at Chuck, who took a look over at his sister with a satisfied expression on his face. Ellie laughed at a joke made by one of her guests, her facing alight with happiness. "No, Morgan. I really don't think we should."

Ellie laughed a little more, touched one of the guests on the shoulder affectionately, and moved along to talk to another couple. Devon walked over to join her. Ellie greeted him with a "Hey!" barely audible above the noise in the room and puts her arms around him with an affectionate smile. Sarah watched Chuck watch his sister, a smile on her face. Sarah placed a hand on his back, and he looked up to share a smile with her.

As the evening wore on, Ellie and Devon seemed to be everywhere, and even Sarah and Chuck circulated and mingled a fair amount, staying side-by-side most of the evening. Guests gradually started to make their exits. Casey was one of the first to leave, stopping off to say a few casual goodbyes before ducking out.

Eventually, it was down to just the three couples. Devon was ensconced in one of the chairs withEllie reclining in his lap, his arm wrapped around the front of her shoulders. Chuck and Sarah sat close together on the couch, almost as if they wished they could be touching but weren't sure how. Morgan and Anna lingered in the same places they had remained most of the night. 

Chuck leaned forward, hands emphasizing his words, as he finished telling the group a story about a Christmas past. "And we wake up Christmas morning to the sound of Ellie absolutely sobbing her eyes out. I come out of my room to find our father screaming down the stairs at Ellie: "Eleanor Fay, what have you done?" He waved his arms in an exaggerated impression of his father. 

Sarah, looking around and laughing with the group, interjected, "Ooh, you know you're in trouble when they break out the middle name."

Chuck was momentarily distracted by Sarah's reference to middle names; it was just another reminder of how little he knew about her. Other people were laughing knowingly at Sarah's comment, so he had time to regroup before continuing, "Ellie was sitting almost completely under the Christmas tree, surrounded by the absolutely tattered remains of wrapping paper. We're talking trailer-park-after-a-tornado scale disaster area. She had opened every last one of our Christmas presents, and was still crying." The group burst out laughing as Ellie buried her face in her hands with an embarrassed smile.

With a smiling but quizzical look, Sarah asked, "What were you doing?"

Ellie removed her hands, but was still unable to meet anyone's eyes. "Well, I was absolutely convinced that one of the boxes had the puppy I wanted. When it wasn't in any of mine … well, I just opened up all of them. And then I realized I wasn't getting a puppy." At that, she was finally able to look some people in the eye with a sheepish smile.

Sarah's face crinkled into a sympathetic expression that matched the little, "Aww…" she emitted. Devon tightened his arm around Ellie for a second; she looked up at him before sharing a private smile with Chuck. 

Anna looked a little jealous that Ellie was getting all the attention. Although she managed to put up a decent front, Morgan sensed Anna's unhappiness. "Well, it's about time for Anna and me to hit the road."

Ellie sighed, "It is getting late." Morgan and Anna got up, and said their goodbyes to the rest of the group. 

She had walked the couple most of the way to the door when she remembered something. "Wait! You can't leave yet." She scurried into her bedroom.

Morgan looked at Chuck. "Aw, dude, She's not…"

Chuck shrugged. "You know Ellie." Morgan sighed.

Anna looked puzzled, and a little annoyed. Sarah just looked puzzled.

Ellie came back into the room with a three packages. Two were identical: rectangular, wrapped in beautiful deep red wrapping paper with golden ribbon and a matching bow. The third was much smaller, cylindrical in shape and decorated with a deep green wrapping paper and the same golden ribbon/bow combination. Ellie handed the packages to Morgan, then leaned over and gave Anna a hug, whispering in her ear. Anna resisted at first, but whatever Ellie said worked: Anna couldn't help but smile.

Sarah leaned over and whispered in Chuck's ear, "What's this all about?"

Chuck shook his head, whispered back, "Oh, no. I'm not about to steal my sister's thunder."

Morgan and Anna made their exit, offering one more good night to everyone as they left. Ellie shut the door behind them, and made her way back to the sitting area. The other three stood up, Chuck offering Sarah a hand, and exchanged Christmas greetings. Devon hugged both Sarah and Chuck somewhat violently, invading their personal space a bit too much in the process.

Ellie finished giving her brother a hug. Chuck whispered into her ear, smiling, and Ellie's smile somehow managed to grow even bigger. They held hands for a moment, extending their arms to extend the touch as Chuck moved back towards Sarah.

Ellie told the pair, "All right, guys. We'll get the dishes and the lights. Good night!"

Chuck and Sarah headed back to Chuck's room. As they headed down the hallway, Sarah asked, "So what was the deal with the packages?"

Chuck simply said, "You'll see," and opened the door to his room.

In the room were three packages identical to the packages Ellie had handed to Morgan: the cylindrical package sat on the book shelf by Chuck's iPod dock, while one rectangular package sat on each side of the neatly made bed.

The two entered the room. Sarah sat down on "her" side of the bed, next to one of the packages. The tag read, "To Sarah, from the Bartowskis".

As Chuck walked around the bed, Sarah asked, "Do we open them now?"

"Yep." He sat on his side of the bed, watching Sarah as she opened her gift.

Feeling a little self-conscious, she tore open the paper and opened the box. The box contained a two-piece set of dark red pajamas with a camisole top and full-length pants. Sarah looked at Chuck questioningly.

Chuck explained, "It's a family tradition that started with my parents. They would give us each a set of new pajamas at Christmas so we would all look good for pictures Christmas morning. As we grew up, Ellie and I kept the tradition alive: pajamas make a great present, and nobody needs to stress at all on Christmas morning. I guess it's a little hokey…"

"I love it. I really do. So what's in the other package?"

"Well, it's massage oil. From Devon."

Sarah's face went a little flat. "And what kind of tradition is that?"

Chuck was about to reply when Sarah cut in, "You're joking, aren't you."

Unable to keep a straight face any longer, Chuck broke down laughing. Sarah laughed a little ruefully.

He walked across the room and tore the wrapping paper from the package. "It's a bayberry candle. You burn it on Christmas eve for good luck."

Sarah looked at the candle, then back into her pajama box. "Your sister really gets into this kind of thing, doesn't she."

"After Mom left, she kind of stepped up to fill the void. As much as any kid can, anyway."

"Well, I think she's sweet. But does she really expect us to wear the PJ's?"

"Just be glad she didn't hear you say that."

Sarah showed mock fear as she said, "Uh, oh. I'd better go change."

"That would be smart," Chuck said with a smile.

Sarah grabbed her overnight bag from the corner and headed into the bathroom. Chuck crossed the room to unwrap the plastic from the candle, pausing for a moment to look at the picture of Sarah and him from the night of the Halloween party. In times past, Chuck would have loved the idea of Sarah changing into night clothes in the bathroom, but things had changed. 

He flashed back to the last time he was lighting candles in his room. Sarah was spending the night for cover, and they were going to "make love". That night had not turned out so well, but events since the night had given him hope of other, better nights. Heck, the connection he had felt with Sarah at the party tonight would have given him hope. 

However, Sarah had put those types of thoughts to rest a little while back with one harshly worded declaration in the living room.

Chuck sighed and lit the candle. Sarah was here for the job and only the job; he had to remember not to confuse the cover with anything real.

In the bathroom, Sarah had already changed into her pajamas. She had to admit Ellie did a good job picking them out: the top was cute and just a little bit sexy, but Sarah would be perfectly comfortable lounging around in them Christmas morning. She stared in the mirror for a minute, and started messing with her hair. She tried the Weinerlicious pig tails to keep things fun, but decided they were out of place. Next, she tried letting the hair hang completely loose, but she didn't like how the hair hung. 

Sarah got frustrated. "For goodness' sake!" she muttered. She felt like a teenage girl going on a first date. Only this wasn't a first date: Chuck had offered himself up more times than she could remember. And it was time to take him up on his offer.

The last few days had been agonizing. Sarah had tortured herself over the scene in the living room. She had come into the room, accusing Chuck of getting overly emotional on the mission, when it was she who was struggling to control her emotions. And then she had compounded that misstep by telling him that the kiss was a mistake.

It must have absolutely crushed Chuck to hear her words; those terrible, untrue words. Sarah wouldn't take back that moment in the warehouse for anything. She still remembered every detail so vividly. 

As the timer ticked down, Sarah suddenly knew they were going to die, and time slowed down to a crawl. When all she had left in the world was that moment, everything became crystal-clear. Everything became so simple.

She relished the memory of the absolute sense of freedom. How she threw herself at him with complete abandon. The taste of him in her mouth. The feel of his body pressing against hers. The way they clung to each other. 

The kiss seemed to last forever. If only it could have.

Eventually, when it became apparent there no bomb would provide an easy exit from the moment, Sarah fled like a frightened child. She had basically told Chuck she regretted the moment, when nothing could be further from the truth. 

Chuck could have been easily forgiven for protecting himself as well. But while the seasoned secret agent was in full retreat, the man who was so utterly shattered by the betrayal of both his best friend and his girlfriend put himself out there for her again. And again. And yet again.

Sarah didn't deserve that. She kept demanding his trust, yet she kept lying to him about the thing that mattered most to him. When Chuck was at his most honest and brave, she was at her most untruthful and cowardly.

She told Casey that she would fix things with Chuck. Tonight, she would fix things, just not in the way she implied.

Sarah finally settled on pinning her hair back loosely, allowing it to fall straight down about her shoulders. Sarah closed up her overnight bag, and took one last look at herself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she turned, drew open the door and flipped off the light.

Chuck was already in bed, reading a dog-eared paperback book as he waited for her. His hair was tousled a little more than usual, warming Sarah's heart. A new dark blue pajama top with buttons down the front wrapped the portions of his torso and arms visible above the covers. She turned as she entered the room to drop her bag in the corner. "I see Ellie made a nice choice," she heard Chuck compliment her. She dropped the bag and turned back to face him. She caught him struggling to drag his eyes away as she turned, just a little too late to avoid her noticing. Her heart skipped a beat. 

Sarah smiled, and began to cross to room. "Thanks; Ellie has excellent taste. And, apparently, a very good eye for size," she added, a bit puzzled. The pajamas fit her perfectly.

Chuck stared hard at the novel as he responded,"That's actually Awesome, believe it or not. He can take one look at a woman and figure out her size."

"That's kind of weird," Sarah suggested while drawing back the covers on her side of the bed.

"Yeah, well, it's just one of Awesome's many talents."

Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from Chuck for a second. She took a moment to re-assure herself, "You know Chuck wanted you before tonight. He's been sneaking peaks at you from the moment you walked in. All you need to do is take the first step. You can do this." She thought through what she wanted to do for a moment, then climbed under the covers. She rolled over on her side to face Chuck, propping herself up on one arm. "Hey, Chuck?"

Chuck looked up from his book.

Sarah looked at him fairly intensely. "Thanks for tonight," she said simply.

"Hey, it's the least a fake boyfriend could do for his fake girlfriend on Christmas Eve."

Sarah winced a little on the inside. She needed Chuck to not think about her as an agent on assignment. It was her own fault: she was the one who always insisted everything between them was just a cover. How was she going to get past that?

She looked down, and back up. "It was more than that. The party, the way you and Ellie are taking me into your home on a night that's obviously important to your family..." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's something that I just don't get very often."

"Well, I'm glad it was more than just a cover assignment for you. Ellie really likes you, and not just because you're my first girlfriend in five years." Despite Chuck's light tone, Sarah was touched.

Chuck continued, "Besides, it's just great seeing you happy again. You've been pretty down since Thanksgiving."

"Things got pretty confusing for me for a while. It just took some time for me to figure out what I wanted."

"Well, I'm glad you got things figured out." Chuck paused for a second, his smile fading into a more serious expression; he looked at Sarah with his heart in his eyes. Sarah found it difficult to breathe, her heart racing, her eyes darting back and forth between each of his. He was going to do it. He was going to put himself out there again. This time, she was ready.

Chuck's eyes pulled off hers to the left, and then came back to meet her gaze again. "In case I haven't thanked you in a while, thanks for protecting me." His gratitude was sincere, but the delivery was awkward. 

Sarah's heart sank. He wasn't going to put himself back out there again. And it was hard to blame him.

"You're welcome, Chuck." She fought to keep things from going too far in the wrong direction. She forced a smile and a lighter tone. "As I've told you, I've never considered our time together work, and tonight was certainly no exception."

Chuck's smile returned a little bit. "I'm glad. Good night, Sarah." He rolled over to turn off the light, and slid further under the covers.

In the sudden darkness, Sarah responded, "Good night, Chuck." Sarah rolled over to lie on her back, feeling defeated. 

Then a spark flickered within her. What had she really done to let Chuck know how she felt? Nothing. She had tried to lead Chuck down a path to make things easy for her yet again.

Sarah became angry with herself. Chuck had put himself out there countless times. It was time to put herself out there for once. She owed him that. She owed herself that.

As she was about to call out to him in the darkness, Chuck said the only three words that could have stopped Sarah in her tracks: "Good night, Casey."

Sarah was floored that she could have forgotten that Casey had the room bugged. After their conversation the other day, she could be fairly certain he was monitoring their interaction that evening. Regardless, she couldn't take the chance: if Casey found out she was compromised, she'd be shipped out the next day.

It was unlike her to forget something like that. Sarah rolled over to face away from Chuck, realizing that she had almost made a horrible mistake. But lying there in the darkness, hearing Chuck breathe and sensing his warmth, it took all the willpower she had to not make that mistake.


	3. And So This Is Christmas

**Scene VII - Casa Bartowski**

Chuck and Sarah slept in his bed, facing away from each other in the darkness. 

As time passed, the pair shifted in their sleep. Sarah sprawled over her side of the bed. Having forgotten her sleep mask, her arm rested over her eyes. Chuck was on his side facing Sarah, one arm curled under his pillow and the other reaching towards her side of the bed. 

By the time the darkness started fading, both sleepers had shifted again. Sarah faced Chuck, curled up in a loose fetal position. Chuck lay on his back, his arms splayed to his sides uncertainly.

As morning approached, each lay on their sides, facing each other but on opposite ends of the bed.

The faint sound of the front door closing intruded upon the room. Both stirred.

Sarah became alert in short order, a guarded expression on her face. She assessed the unfamiliar surroundings without moving and quickly picked up her bearings, relaxing almost immediately.

Chuck goofily stretched before noticing Sarah. Suddenly, he recognized her, and a smile lit up his face. He greeted her in a quiet voice. "Hey."

Sarah returned the smile with one just as genuine. "Hey," she responded in a drowsy and slightly shy voice.

Chuck just lay there, staring at Sarah. Her eyes were happy and sleepy. Her hair was slightly frizzy. The rest of the room was blurry to his eyes. Sarah was all that there was.

Sarah seemed to have a problem swallowing. Chuck cursed himself for not putting a glass of water on her bedside table. She recovered, never taking her eyes off of his.

Suddenly the door burst open, and in stormed Morgan, who leapt onto the middle of the bed, wearing his new pajamas. It was a light blue onesie, complete with feet. He looked like a ten-year old kid with a beard. As Morgan bounced up and down on Chuck's mattress, Sarah and Chuck just stared in disbelief, unsure what to say.

Morgan stopped jumping, and put his arms out, calling out, "C'mon guys, Santa came! Let's get the lead out!"

Sarah looked at Chuck, unable to find the words and clearly looking for help. Chuck managed to form a coherent sentence. "Wow, Morgan. Ellie outdid herself this year."

Morgan shook the bed as he dropped to a sitting position between their outstretched legs, facing Chuck a little more than Sarah."Man, when Ellie pulled out the boxes at the end of the evening, I thought I was toast. You know how Ellie always gives me the terrible PJs, and I always put up with it because, well…"

Chuck finished his sentence, "… you are utterly infatuated with her and it was the only way she would allow you in the house on Christmas?"

"Yeah, that. Well, I got home, and opened the box, and I fr-reaked. There I am with Anna, and I have a frickin' onesie to wear. But, dude, Anna was totally into it!" He fell over onto his back. "I hope you guys had half as much fun as we did last night."

Morgan's last comment caused two very different emotions in Chuck. However, they both triggered the same reaction: a slightly nauseous stomach.

**Scene VIII – Casa Bartowski, Living Room**

Ellie and Devon were hard at work in the kitchen. Ellie sported the identical pajamas to Sarah, except hers were a dark shade of green. Devon was wearing shiny red pajama pants, but seemed to have forgotten to slip on his shirt after he got up. The two were happily bustling about the kitchen.

Anna and Morgan were kneeling over by the tree. Morgan wasn't the only one whose pajamas were kid-themed: Anna's pajamas made her look like a middle-school girl, and her decision to put her hair up in pig tails and pop the occasional bubble with her gum only added to that perception.

Morgan wasn't kidding when he said Santa had come: the stockings were stuffed and there wasn't enough room under the tree for all the gifts. Morgan was excitedly talking to Anna about the presents under the tree, occasionally picking up a package, shaking it, and telling her what he hoped it was.

Sarah and Chuck were back on the couch, relaxing. Ellie had quickly shooed them out of the kitchen when they had offered to help, so Sarah took the opportunity to ask about Morgan's onesie.

Chuck explained that Christmas Day was always divided into two parts in the Bartowski house: the morning was about family, while the afternoon was about friends. Morgan, to Ellie's dismay, had become part of the "family" the year after Chuck got kicked out of Stanford. With Chuck going through such a rough time, he and Morgan had become inseparable again. Despite Ellie's dislike for Morgan, she put it aside on Christmas for Chuck.

However, the first Christmas Morgan made some suggestive comments to Ellie about the pajamas she got for him. Apparently Morgan took the pajamas to be a sign she was interested in him, despite everything in her manner, her words, and pretty much all her interactions with Morgan. From that Christmas on, she tried to show him that she didn't think of him romantically by buying pajamas that were as far away from sexy as she could. 

After the scene at Thanksgiving, Ellie was unsure whether Anna would be around for Christmas, and she always shopped on Black Friday. So, she kept up her tradition of getting Morgan what amounted to kid's pajamas. This year, she found him a onesie.

After Ellie found out Anna was coming, rather than return the onesie, she simply went and got Anna pajamas from a similar set. Ellie hoped it might help to get on Anna's good side to show she thought of the two of them as a couple. Apparently, it worked wonders (along with whatever Ellie whispered to Anna last night), because Anna looked completely at ease in the apartment for the first time.

Something about the way Sarah was looking at him while he talked unnerved him. It unnerved him in a good way, but he still had to struggle to concentrate. Chuck found himself unable to tear his eyes from hers as he finished the story. He decided to excuse himself and slipped back to his bathroom; he clearly needed to regroup.

**Scene IX – Casa Bartowski, Bathroom**

After splashing water on his face, Chuck looked at himself in the mirror, droplets still trickling down his cheeks. He had trouble banishing Sarah's gaze from his mind, and when he did manage to put it aside, he could only think about how Sarah had smiled at him as she woke up.

He splashed a little more cold water on his face, trying to bring himself back to reality. "Look," he told himself, "you know that Sarah felt it was critical that we shore up our cover. She doesn't feel that way about you. She made that clear."

Chuck continued lecturing himself in a quiet voice, "You still have strong feelings for her. You'll get over her; you just need some time. Until then, keep yourself in a solid, rational frame of mind." Chuck felt a little better after his little talk with himself. He wiped his face dry.

So what did that mean? He'd seen how well Sarah played the part of the smitten woman with Kirk; she was just playing her part again today. That made perfect sense.

The problem was that he needed to play his part, too. Sarah couldn't shore up their cover without his help. And he couldn't lie to his sister.

Ellie. Chuck developed a sinking sensation in his stomach. Ellie so badly wanted him and Sarah to be going strong, and she would notice anything that didn't ring true. Sarah had the ability play her part to a tee, but Ellie would be watching Chuck as well. And the reality was that Ellie would be safer if she didn't see any holes in the cover.

He had to hurt somebody today. The choice was easy.

Chuck made himself a deal. He was going to accept everything that happened that day at face value. He was going to let himself believe, as best he could, that everything Sarah was showing him was the truth, and react truthfully to it. He wouldn't be lying to his sister, because everything he did would come from the heart. 

It would hurt like hell at the end of the day, but it was his only move. His eyes looked vaguely haunted as he stared at himself in the mirror.

**Scene X – Casa Bartowski, Living Room**

Once Chuck managed to shake off the gloomy realizations from the bathroom, he came back out to take his seat next to Sarah on the couch, and soon they were relaxed and laughing. The rest of the day was a series of wonderful memories. 

Late in the morning, Chuck called Morgan over, and the two re-arranged the seating area to face the Christmas tree in the front window. Ellie brought over a tray full of baked goods and set it on the coffee table, while Devon ferried coffee and orange juice over for everyone. The six of them made themselves comfortable.

After an hour of conversation over the light breakfast, Devon played Santa, handing out Christmas gifts. Ellie and Sarah sat on the couch next to each other, looking like sisters in their pajamas and their interactions. Morgan spoke in wild gestures to Chuck and Anna about the Xbox game he just opened, with the two others able to get the occasional word in edgewise. Chuck did little talking, preferring to enjoy the scene with a contented smile.

Sarah played with the heart-shaped gold necklace that Chuck "gave" her (to Ellie's obvious relief) as it hung around her neck while she anxiously watched Chuck open her gift to him: an understated silver watch with a black leather band. Chuck gave her a big smile in return, and leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek as well. He slipped the watch onto his wrist to try it on. Ellie watched their interactions with delight.

The gift exchange complete, the six changed out of their pajamas into real clothes, taking some time to get themselves and the apartment cleaned up along the way. The extended dining room table was put in place; Sarah and Anna set the table while Chuck helped Ellie in the kitchen while Devon poured drinks. 

Morgan was nowhere to be seen, having slipped back to Chuck's room to try out one of his presents. He had a chagrined look on his face when Chuck chased him back into the living room.

Christmas dinner was an extensive affair. As people arrived, they exchanged Holiday greetings and were quickly given glasses of wine, mixed drinks or water, as they preferred. The room was full of laughter and conversation, with a series of Christmas carols playing from Chuck's iPod. Chuck held Sarah's chair for her, helping to scoot her in before heading to the kitchen to refresh her glass of wine. Sarah had a happy but slightly wistful expression on her face as she watched Chuck all the way across the room.

In the late afternoon, the windows grew dark, and people start to filter out of the apartment by one's and two's. Soon it was down to the original six. Chuck and Sarah took their places on the couch together while Anna and Morgan had an animated debate about whether they would have allowed Gollum to go with them on their quest to Mount Doom. Chuck delivered a quip about the idea of Morgan surviving on that little food that made Sarah and Anna laugh; Morgan was not as impressed. 

Seemingly without even thinking about it, Chuck reached over to take Sarah's hand. She looked surprised for just an instant, but her expression quickly became pleased. Their fingers opened and closed as they re-adjusted their grip to better fit, their eyes never leaving the others and their smiles seemingly etched permanently onto their faces.

At the end of the night, it was down to just Ellie, Devon, Sarah and Chuck. Chuck's left arm looped around Sarah's waist in their spot on the couch, her head comfortably nestled in the indentation between Chuck's shoulder and neck. Sarah turned over Chuck's wrist to check the time. "Oh, my goodness. I'd better be going."

Ellie protested, "No! You can't leave, not yet." 

Awesome offered, "One more glass of wine."

Sarah smiled at their comments. "Sorry, sorry, I've got to be getting home. I'm opening tomorrow, and I've got errands to run before work."

Ellie looked both understanding and frustrated. "I hate in when the real world sets back in, don't you?"

Sarah looked back at her with the slightest hint of an ironic smile. "Even more than you, I'd bet." 

She walked over and gave Devon a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and said, "Sarah, it was absolutely awesome having you here."

She laughed as she released him. "I see you haven't dug into that thesaurus Chuck gave you for Christmas yet."

Devon smiled confidently. "Hey, you gotta dance with the one who brung ya. Am I right?"

Sarah touched his shoulder affectionately, and slid over to give Ellie a hug.

Ellie returned the hug with a huge smile, and whispered, "I am so glad you stayed with us." She let Sarah go, and continued, "It meant so much to me, and to Chuck, too."

Sarah looked her straight in the eye, and responded, "It meant a ton to me, too."

"We'll see you at New Year's, then?" Ellie asked.

"Wouldn't miss it. I've been meaning to ask: how the heck are you guys giving three parties in a week?"

Devon grinned, explaining, "We're gluttons for punishment. Besides, when I mix up my famous marg-a-rit-as, we don't have to worry about finding a cab home."

Chuck interjected, "Yeah, we just have to worry about everyone else getting one."

Sarah smiled. She turned to face Chuck, "Help me grab my stuff?"

His smile had just a hint of sadness. "Of course." The two headed back to Chuck's room, Sarah leading the way down the hall. Sarah opened the door, and the two walked in. 

He shut the door behind them. It was an action he'd done hundreds of time before, but this time the sound of the latch clicking seemed to echo through the room. The day was over.

Sarah retrieved her bag from the corner. Chuck took a deep breath to steel himself. Back here, he reminded himself, the cover wasn't important. Behind closed doors, Sarah was just a friend, no matter how wonderful the day had been. 

Chuck asked, "So, how'd we do today?"

Sarah moved her bag over to the bed; she looked up with a slightly puzzled smile, and asked, "What do you mean?"

He was puzzled as well. "Um…" Sarah always defaulted to talking about the mission at hand; Chuck was a little surprised that he had to qualify his comment. "Our cover: did we shore things up like you wanted?"

The smile on her face faded, leaving a strangely blank expression in its place. She spoke a bit more slowly than usual when she replied, "Yes. I think everyone believed what happened today was real."

His expression was a mixture of relief and confusion. Normally Sarah would have at least offered a smile for a mission well-done. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"

Looking down, Sarah didn't respond for a second. She seemed to gather herself, but just as she was about say something, she stopped. Her eyes darted to the left, then back to Chuck. "Walk me to my car?" she asked, a plaintive tone creeping into her voice. She handed her presents to him and picked up her bag. Opening the door, she walked out of the room without another word.

Chuck lingered for a second. This couldn't be happening. He had been working so hard to get over Sarah, to remind himself that nothing was going to happen. Knowing all that, Chuck willingly allowed his feelings for Sarah back to the surface. "Follow my lead," she had told him about re-establishing their cover. And as much as he knew it was going to eventually hurt, he did that. For Ellie. For Sarah.

Why could he get nothing right with Sarah? Chuck started to get angry.

He took a deep breath to steady himself. He was not about to throw away that day's sacrifice over a moment's anger; he could keep his emotions in check until he got outside, and then he and Sarah could talk further. There had to be some explanation.

Carrying her presents back into the living room, he caught Sarah saying one more goodbye to Ellie and Devon. "There you are," she said with a smile. She turned back to pair. "Thanks again for a wonderful time. Good night!"

Ellie and Devon echoed her "good night". Chuck and Sarah headed outside, Chuck pulling the door shut behind him while balancing the presents on a knee. He was impatient for Sarah to say something, but she kept walking towards the fountain without looking back at him.

The door to Casey's apartment opened up, and out came Casey, looking a bit bleary-eyed and very irritated. He wore his pajama bottoms and a blue T-shirt which read, "I never saw an American flag burned at a gun show."

His gaze shifted between the two as he said, "Man, I thought you guys would never leave. Enjoy your partying?"

Chuck set Sarah's packages on the wide ledge of the fountain and offered, "You were invited today, you know. You could have stopped over."

His stance confrontational, Casey turned to face Chuck. "While I appreciate that, an invitation doesn't do me much good when I have to slog through all the reconnaissance tapes on my own so you two can protect your cover."

Sarah got that same odd blank expression on her face again. She asked, a little woodenly, "Anything interesting?"

Casey glared over at her. "No. Everything I heard and saw was the exact opposite of interesting." He turned back to Chuck. "I used to use your conversations with Morgan as the clear measuring stick for boring. But your old buddy Liniman is now number two with a bullet."

Chuck had already been emotional when he left the apartment, and Casey was really starting to push his buttons. "Well, Agent Casey, I see you've found the grumpiness of ten Casey's plus two this Christmas. But if there's nothing to report, why don't I walk Sarah to her car. You can head back inside, trade your bumper sticker in for another outfit, and then we'll head back home for a desperately needed glass of eggnog to calm you down." Chuck punctuated the last three words with a raised tone through a clenched jaw.

"No, thanks. I've got five more hours of tape to cover. Besides, somebody has to be protecting the country while you two are off having your fun."

Chuck fought to keep his temper, but was quickly losing the fight. He had spent the day deliberately setting himself up to be hurt again, in part to help out Sarah and even Casey. To have Casey demean those efforts were the last straw. "Today wasn't exactly a picnic for me, either."

A shout erupted from Sarah's lips. "Enough!"

Both men turned to look at her, each still looking angry. Their anger was nothing compared to Sarah's: she was clearly at the end of her rope. She barked out,"I'm done with both of you. Casey, anything to report?"

Casey's expression telegraphed that he was about to make a smart-ass remark; she quickly cut him off in a fierce tone, "Agent Casey, anything to report. Yes. Or. No."

He didn't look intimidated as much as chastised. "No, nothing."

"Fine." She turned to face Chuck. "Chuck, good work today. All we have to do is nail down New Year's, and our cover will be back in good shape."

She shifted her bag on her shoulder. "Now, if you will excuse me, I'm heading home to shower off," she said somewhat viciously while staring at Chuck. Almost as an afterthought, she directed her glare at Casey for a short moment before she turned around, striding determinedly towards the street. 

Despite his anger, her tone still stung Chuck to the core. He turned towards Casey and noticed a slightly amused expression on his face as his gaze followed Sarah out of the courtyard. This did nothing to calm Chuck. "What could possibly be funny?"

Casey turned to Chuck, and took on a lecturing tone in a much quieter voice. "Holidays are hell on agents. They have to almost completely swear off family and friends, and most of the year it's not a problem. But, man, Christmas comes along and takes down the best of them. You and Ellie must have really gotten under her skin with your festivities; I've never seen her this emotional."

A thought occurred to Chuck. In a sarcastic tone, he responded, "Right, because your little tantrum back there wasn't about anything to do with Christmas. And you avoiding the festivities today wasn't about protecting yourself from becoming emotional."

Casey glared at Chuck and tried to find a clever retort. Several emotions crossed his face in quick succession. He finally gave a grunt that Chuck had never heard, one of frustration and defeat, and retreated to his apartment. The door closed with a slam behind him.

Chuck was left alone in the courtyard. He didn't deserve any of this. He suddenly felt very tired and went to sit on the fountain ledge. As he was about to sit, he noticed Sarah's presents still sitting on the fountain ledge. Angry or not, he wasn't going to let Sarah go home without her Christmas presents. He grabbed the packages and took off running after Sarah.

As he ran, he thought about what Casey had said about agents and the holidays. That, in combination with opening his heart for the day, made it feel somehow right to make sure the day ended on an up note for Sarah, even if she didn't return his feelings. His jaw tightened with determination, and he shed his anger as he ran.

With the holiday, all the close spots had been taken, so Sarah had parked further down the street than usual. This gave Chuck the time he needed to catch up to her, running up just after she climbed in the car. He knocked on the passenger-side window, startling Sarah.

Typical for Sarah, she recovered in a hurry. She turned towards the driver-side door panel to put down the window, quickly wiping away something in her eye before she turned back.

Chuck crouched down next to the car, both to catch his breath and so he could see Sarah. "Hey," Chuck said with an open expression. "You forgot these." Sarah managed a smile of thanks. She still obviously wasn't herself, so Chuck kept talking.

"It wouldn't be Christmas without your … " he looked down into her stack of presents, and saw Ellie's gift to Sarah " … plush robe with matching slippers, or your … " he stared a little disbelievingly at what he saw, " … Monty Python DVD? How'd I miss that?"

Sarah smiled at the memory. "You were in the kitchen with Ellie. Morgan told me that if I was going to hang around the two of you, I was going to have to be educated on the 'classics'."

Chuck smiled a little bigger. "Right. The classics, like 'Casablanca', 'Citizen Kane' and 'The Search for the Holy Grail'."

Sarah looked grateful to be laughing. With a quizzical look, she inquired, "By the way, what exactly are the 'Knights Who Say 'Ni'?"

Chuck gave a facetious nod as he explained, "Oh, it's very deep and symbolic stuff. I couldn't possibly explain it without diagrams and charts." He broke into a huge grin towards the end.

Sarah laughed some more, although there was still a melancholy undertone. "Well, thanks, Chuck." She even managed a grateful smile.

Chuck responded glibly as he reached in to set the packages on the passenger seat, "Hey, that's what boyfriends are for." Chuck kicked himself a bit; he was still stuck in the earlier mindset where everything between the two of them was real, and had forgotten the "fake" in front of boyfriend. 

As he knelt back down, he noticed her surprised reaction; she had caught the omission. He changed the subject, knowing his slip would make her uncomfortable. "Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything today. I know holidays have to be tough times for you guys."

"Hey, it wasn't exactly torture spending Christmas with you and Ellie. Honestly, it was the most fun I've had in a long time. I'd gladly spend several more days just like it."

"Well, I just wanted you to know that today meant a lot to me, both because of what it means for Ellie and …" Chuck pulled up, seeing her expression turn a little nervous. He was having real difficulty slipping out of his earlier mindset, and now he had talked himself into the corner.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Chuck wasn't quite sure what to say. Well, that wasn't entirely true: he was sure what he wanted to say, but that wasn't an option.

Sarah prompted him, "And…?" She looked at him intently.

Chuck stared helplessly at her. There was nothing he could say that he hadn't already said to her on previous occasions. He knew how that story would end.

Still, he wanted today to end well for her, especially in light of what Casey said. There might just be a way to do that; he hoped it would work.

Chuck looked away, then looked back at Sarah. "And I'd like to give you one last gift, if you'll let me." Sarah's expression became confused. In a calm voice, he continued, "Close your eyes."

"What?"

"Please, just close your eyes."

"OK...," she said, closing her eyes.

"Now, think back through the day, and pick out your favorite moment."

Sarah asked, a little playfully, "What, just one?" 

Chuck couldn't help but grin: he felt the same way. "Yep. Just one. Remember exactly how you felt at that moment."

"OK." A warm smile lit up her face. Chuck recognized the smile: it matched the one she had given him when they woke up that morning. Chuck fought to keep from getting distracted. "Now what?" she asked.

Chuck licked his lips. "I want you to remember how you feel right now, and feel that way the rest of the night."

Sarah's eyes shot open. Chuck said, "I know holidays are tough on agents; I just want you to have one day where all that ... stuff ... goes away. So, can you do that?"

She replied with soft eyes and a softer voice, "I think so."

He smiled at her. "Merry Christmas, Sarah."

With the slightest catch in her voice, she replied, "Merry Christmas, Chuck. "

Chuck stood up and backed away from the car, locking that smile into his memory as Sarah drove off into the night.


	4. Hangovers

**Scene XI - Buy More**

Chuck exited the stock room carrying a stack of Xbox games and started to navigate the aisles towards the gaming section. Making matters more difficult was the high volume of customers swamping the store. The day after Christmas was far, far better than the day after Thanksgiving, but it was still not a pretty day. Dodging a gaggle of kids fighting for a turn on the demo Wii station, Chuck wound his way to the Xbox section of shelves and started restocking the shelves.

Most of the shoppers fell into one of three categories. The first group looked to make exchanges, which meant complicated and boring entries into the registers. The second group scoured the store for post-Christmas markdowns, which meant long and boring questions from customers who weren't even sure what they were looking for. The final group had gift cards to spend, which meant confusing and boring conversations from customers who didn't know what they wanted. Topped off with phone calls from customers struggling to get their new toys and appliances working and it was hectic … but boring. 

Making matters worse, all of Chuck's co-workers seemed to have hangovers. Of course, the type of hangover varied: Casey wasn't speaking to Chuck after his comments from the previous night, Morgan had stayed up most of the night trying out his new games, and Big Mike was just unhappy to be back in the store. Overall, it made for a testy working environment. 

Chuck was thankful to at least be busy; it kept him from having to think about Sarah. The holiday was definitely over.

As he stocked the shelves, he idly wondered about Shawn Liniman and his flash. Three days of reconnaissance work had produced nothing except a grumpy Casey. While Chuck had trouble imagining what Casey would do with any type of vacation time, he still felt guilty at the thought that his flash might be somehow mistaken and leading the team on a wild-goose chase.

Then again, the way Casey treated Sarah and him last night … Chuck pushed that thought from his head. Two wrongs didn't make a right, and Casey obviously need the break as much as any of them.

Carefully dodging customers and offering rote greetings along the way, Chuck took the last of his games to a display rack near the other gaming consoles. Lester and Jeff approached Chuck from behind, the latter wearing an expression clearly displaying his variety of hangover. Jeff didn't so much look at Chuck as stare in his general direction.

Lester cleared his throat. Opening hands, he offered in a mock servile tone, "Chuck, a word, if we may?"

From the way Lester spoke, Chuck knew this wasn't going to be good. He took a deep breath, and then put a friendly expression on as he turned to face the pair. "Of course. What's going on, guys?"

"It's come to the attention of my compatriot and myself that Big Mike actually did duck out early for Christmas, as usual. There was no edict from Buy More corporate. There were no reports."

Chuck knew he was busted. "Yeah, about that…"

"No, no … well-played, Bartowski. Well-played." He gave a sarcastic golf clap to highlight his disdain.

"You caught me. I tricked you into doing your job, and put off Jeff's drinking binge until after he actually left work." On cue, both Chuck and Lester looked at Jeff, who continued to stare off into space with the blankest expression they had ever seen. "Not that it seemed to matter much in the end."

Lester lowered his voice. "Yeah, I'm starting to get a little worried about his drinking."

"You're starting to get worried?"

"The point is that swift and terrible revenge is coming."

Given the dire prediction of imminent doom, Chuck looked remarkably unconcerned. "And Jeff, how do you feel about that?"

Jeff's reaction was fairly predictable: he didn't move.

Big Mike walked up behind the Jeff and Lester. Lester turned around, a bit startled. Once again, Jeff didn't budge. 

"Lester, Jeff: Chuck told me about all the work you did before Christmas." He looked at Chuck, "It's a Christmas miracle." He turned back to Lester before shooting an uncomfortable glance at Jeff. "Bang-up job. Keep up the good work, guys." He headed back towards his office.

Lester, shocked by the praise, stared after Big Mike. His expression became happy, and then slightly hopeful. "So, we're good about the whole Santa thing?"

"Don't push it!"

"Of course. No problem, big guy." 

As Lester faced Chuck again, Chuck's face was a little smug.

Lester looked slightly awed. "What kind of power do you have over him?"

The smugness vanished; Chuck said, "Look, I'm sorry about the lie. But I told you if you got your work done, I'd pass it along to Big Mike. You got your work done."

"This is starting to feel a little too 'Hallmark after-school-special-ish.' But you're not off the hook, Bartowski: you still owe us for the lying. We'll come collecting. C'mon, Jeff."

He started to walk away. Jeff didn't move, unless one considers listing slightly to one side to be moving.

Chuck asked, "Is he all right?"

"Jeff, there's beer in the cage. Want one?"

Jeff instantly snapped out of his trance. "You know I do."

Lester shook his head. "Jeff. There is no beer."

Jeff started to slip back into his trance. Lester grabbed his arm. "No, Jeff, c'mon. We've got work to do." They walk away, Jeff leaning rather heavily on Lester.

Chuck muttered to himself. "And he's still going to exact his 'revenge'. I don't believe it." After a moment of thought, he changed his mind. "Of course I believe it."

Chuck checked the time. The watch that Sarah gave him read 10:10, but he didn't notice. All he saw was Sarah's smile from when she was in the car, leaving. He had to find a way to get out of that mindset; it would lead to nothing good.

**Scene XII - Weinerlicious**

Sarah was freezing cold. She had felt cold from the moment she woke up that morning, and no matter what she did, she could not seem to warm herself up. 

The skimpy Weinerlicious outfit certainly did no favors in that regard. Sarah wore her grey sweater over the top, but there was nothing she could do for her legs. She felt like crawling into the deep fryer; at least she'd be warm for a minute. She sighed and continued the store-opening routine, carrying in cups, napkins, and other supplies from the stockroom.

It was a damp, cold Los Angeles morning, with overcast skies giving the day a dreary mood. Sarah had run out to the DCI Enterprises campus on her way into work to check in on their favorite employee, one Shawn Liniman, and to shift the Suburban to a parking spot on the other side of the lot. 

When Sarah checked the feeds, Shawn's appearance gave the impression that he had been there for a while. Sarah flicked the switch that manually changed tapes for both the audio and video feeds; normally, the feeds automatically switched after six hours. Pulling the tapes out, she plugged the two into a portable playing device that synchronized the audio and video. After fussing with the controls to align the two feeds, she started skimming the recording from the beginning. 

The tapes captured Shawn entering his office at 6:17; that seemed abnormally early, even for a workaholic. Sarah's hopes were raised; maybe Liniman was in early to finish off something before his co-workers started arriving. So far, reconnaissance had revealed absolutely nothing incriminating.

Sarah didn't have time to scan almost three hours of tape before work, but she couldn't resist studying the first fifteen minutes. Unfortunately, because the camera was mounted at an angle across the room, it was nearly impossible to tell what Liniman was doing on the monitor. 

The original plan had been to mount the camera directly above the desk so that they could zoom in on documents, but the office lacked the typical suspended ceiling of most offices in favor of a popcorn ceiling that dated the office construction to the 70s. There was no way to install a camera to get an overhead view of the desk, so the next best option was to mount it across the room, and use the enhancement software back in her apartment to enlarge and rotate images of the documents on his desk. Right now, Sarah couldn't make out much besides Shawn's face.

However, that face wasn't revealing much, so Sarah packed up shop and came into the Weinerlicious. The good news was that she had a short shift. The bad news was that it was her turn to scour video and audio after work, so if Liniman spent all day in the office, she was in for a long night. Worst of all, it meant Sarah would only get to see Chuck on her lunch break.

Sarah gladly moved on to happier thoughts, finally felt a little warmer as she thought about Christmas day. The circular wiping motions she used to clean the counters slowed as she reminisced. 

Chuck had asked her to relive her favorite moment, but in reality Sarah spent the remainder of her evening reliving most of the day: waking up to his smile, talking and laughing on the couch, ending the day with her head on his chest and his arm about his waist. It was ludicrous, but she felt safe in the arms of a man who probably would rely on her to save him should trouble come through the door. Sarah smiled at the thought, unconsciously slipping out of her sweater before mechanically taking up the wiping cloth again.

When Chuck asked her to pick her favorite moment, it was an easy choice. Her favorite moment, by far, was when Chuck took her hand. She smiled now thinking about the moment. So many things appealed to Sarah: how unexpected a gesture was, how natural it felt, how she never thought such a small thing could make her heart race. 

Agents are often called upon to kiss (and do things far more intimate than kiss), but they are almost never called upon to hold hands. Sarah had held Chuck's hand a couple of times before, but she had always been the instigator and there had always been complications. Christmas day was different.

It had been all Sarah could do to keep her face straight; she couldn't very well show Ellie and the others how much Chuck taking her hand meant to her after she and Chuck supposedly had been dating for three months. But, oh, how her soul had sung when he intertwined his fingers with hers.

What made the moment all the more special was that she was convinced Chuck had realized that this wasn't about the cover for her any more. She spent the rest of the day as happy as she could remember being. Her cheeks still hurt from all the smiling she did. That is, up until the point she found out she was wrong.

In Chuck's bedroom, everything came crashing down with one innocent question from Chuck. She found herself reliving that moment as well. Sarah had wanted to scream at him, tear into him. How dare he. How could Chuck let her believe it was real when he thought it was all for the sake of the cover?

The obvious finally occurred to her: had that been how badly she had hurt Chuck, time and time again? The blood drained from her face, and she developed a sinking sensation in her belly. How many times had she shown Chuck pieces of the truth, only to yank then away and crush his hopes? How many times had she pushed Chuck away, hurting him like she hurt now? 

And what would she give to have just one of those times back?

Of course Chuck thought yesterday was about the job: Sarah had finally convinced him. And the way she felt right now, she couldn't blame him if he finally had had enough.

It was suddenly very cold in the shop; Sarah pulled her sweater back on. She started counting the minutes until Chuck's lunch break; she needed him to give her hope that she hadn't blown it.

**Scene XIII - Buy More**

"Ma'am, I can assure you your new digital picture frame is just fine."

Chuck was stuck in The Hole, covering for Morgan as he and Anna snuck off for a make-out break. At least, he hoped it was a make-out break. He really preferred not to consider it too carefully. The silver lining was that he didn't have the opportunity.

The overbearing elderly woman in the flowered hat and heavy coat glared at Chuck. "Don't tell me there's nothing wrong with the frame. Yesterday, there were pictures flashing on it. Today, there was nothing. So what are you going to do about it?" Her shrill voice attracted glances from nearby customers, as well as the half-dozen people in line behind her.

"Well, ma'am, who set up your camera for you yesterday?"

"My grandson. He gave me the frame as a gift."

"How nice!" Chuck said, managing to sound interested. "Does he, by chance, have a digital camera?"

"Yes, he does."

"You see, this particular model has no internal hard drive. So it must have been running off a memory card from his digital camera, and he must have taken it out at some point. Does that make sense?"

The woman brightened. "Why yes, it does."

"Well, there you go."

Chuck was distracted by the sight of Morgan returning out of the break room door, fixing his hair and straightening his collar. Chuck took a look at his watch; it read 12:31. Morgan was overdue, which meant that he had missed his lunch break, and now couldn't head over to see Sarah. Yesterday had been as rough on her as on him. Actually, it probably was rougher on her, given what Casey told him about agents and holidays. At least Chuck had Ellie around for support; Chuck wanted to make sure she was OK. 

Chuck noticed the woman was still there. They shared an uncomfortable silence for a moment. She patiently stood there, clearly waiting for something.

Chuck broke the silence. "Is there something else we can do for you today?"

The woman looked puzzled. "I'm sorry. What do I do now?"

Chuck battled the urge not to bury his face in his hands.

"By the way, what is a hard drive?"

Chuck lost the battle.

**Scene XIV - Weinerlicious II **

Sarah found that there were only so many ways to build structures out of drinking straws. 

At first, she tried building a teepee, but she couldn't figure out how to get it started. It did OK one time when she managed to get four straws up at the same time, but it was almost impossible to add additional straws. At least, no way that she had discovered thus far. But by the end of her shift, she just might figure it out. 

For the moment, she was building a more traditional "log cabin" style structure and pondering why the Weinerlicious was even open. Weinerlicious had a sum total of one customer on the day; he bought a Coke.

In the past, Sarah had tried to find ways to use the down times to stay sharp with her job skills. Unfortunately, since Scooter caught her and Chuck in the supply closet, Scooter made a habit of checking in on her unannounced. After Scooter nearly caught her hurling corn dog skewers with deadly accuracy the photo of him she had mounted on the Weinerlicious communication board, Sarah felt it was safer to keep her work lives separate.

Sarah looked at the clock on the wall: it read 12:14. That made the day all the worse: Chuck's lunch break only ran until 12:30, and that was all the time she'd have with him today. That was all the time she'd have to try to get things straightened out, or at least back on the right track. If there was even a way to make that happen.

Something didn't fit for Sarah: how could Chuck, who wore every emotion on his sleeve, suddenly put in such a commanding performance yesterday? She was certainly fooled. Her heart started aching again as she thought about it.

She started replaying the day in her head, as she often had to do on missions. It allowed her to slip into a bit more rational frame of mind.

When Sarah and Chuck woke up, the smile he gave her had to be genuine. There was no way he slipped into character that quickly. She lingered on the memory, savoring how his smile glowed in the dimly lit room. Reluctantly, she forced herself to focus.

After that, Morgan intruded. Amusing, one of the day's highlights, and completely irrelevant … other than it kept her from having the chance to talk with Chuck with little chance that Casey was listening. She felt a little irritation at the bad timing, but pushed it aside. She pressed on through her memories.

Sarah and Chuck had moved out to the couch. Chuck was telling Sarah the background on Morgan's ludicrous pajamas, and she was absolutely entranced. Sharing one of Chuck's memories in such a casual moment somehow drew her closer to him, plus something about the way he told the story made things very personal for her. But the way he told a story didn't mean anything … or did it? Unable to come to a firm conclusion, she categorized the moment as an 'unknown' and moved along.

There was an odd little moment towards the end of the story. Sarah doubted most people would have noticed, but a spy got used to noticing when a person's mood shifted, especially when they left the room for reasons that didn't feel quite natural. She analyzed the moment for a bit, and shook her head. There were too many simple explanations; heck, Chuck could have just had indigestion. Probably nothing there.

Sarah deconstructed the rest of Christmas day. At the end of the efforts, she had lumped the morning smile, the hand-holding, and Chuck chasing after her at the end of the night as maybe-positive signs. However, more telling, she thought, was the fact that Chuck tended to talk about things, so his words were more important than his actions. The only subjects he broached all day specifically referred to the day as shoring up their cover – and how the day hadn't been a picnic for him. 

Those words had stung her most of all. The only thing Chuck could have been referring to was the effort to keep up the cover all day. Did he have to make spending the day with her sound like such a burden?

Such a burden. She thought about that for a minute. Why would the day be such a burden? She straightened up as a happy thought occurred to her: it could be a burden if Chuck was still trying to get over her. That would mean Chuck would have to pretend … or, more accurately, not pretend … that there was something there, while spending the day believing she didn't really share his feelings. She felt hope grow in her heart.

Her mind reeled; she tried to control herself. Was there any other reason for Chuck to consider the day a burden?

And then she came up with an obvious reason … Ellie. A cover would be a burden because he was lying to her. Sarah's hope faded. There was nothing clear-cut there. 

Still, it was more encouragement than she had a few minutes before: what she had thought was the worst moment of the day might have a much better explanation. 

Sarah checked the clock again; it read 12:33. Chuck wasn't stopping by. Her heart sank. She mentally chalked up another tally in the negative column.

**Scene XV - DCI Enterprises Campus**

The clock on Liniman's desk read 12:33. In reality, he had already finished his work for the day. Heck, his accounting records for the quarter were done, so he could check out for the year and not be missed. Still, he wanted the face time, so he tried to look busy in case any executives happened by. Sure enough, Jonathon Turley entered with only a perfunctory knock on his door.

Jonathon was the vice president of international operations, and Shawn was a director and chief accountant of his division. Most of the numbers on his books were base-level accounting, but for a defense contractor, international operations were a sensitive area. Shawn's talent was keeping the risk of audit to an absolute minimum. It was that talent that caused Turley to value him so highly.

Turley had recognized Liniman's potential early on. No matter the assignment, Turley knew he could count on Liniman to see it through. He had some questions about how legal some of the tasks were, but he trusted that if he took care of Turley, Turley would take care of him. And that had proven to be true through two promotions and three serious raises.

Shawn greeted Turley with a fawning smile. "Jon-ny, what can I do you for?" 

Turley's face remained stony. "It's Jonathon, and you can keep me from needing to watch over your shoulder." Shawn's smile quickly vanished.

Jonathon handed Shawn a stack of three pieces of computer paper. "The line items on the second page were missing from the numbers you submitted." Shawn slid the cover page out of the way. There wasn't much detail on the second page; only a grid of financial figures, with the months from the current quarter across the top but no details indicating what each line represented. The third page was blank.

Studying the second page for a moment elicited a frown from Liniman. "I don't recognize these numbers."

"I'm sure you don't. If you did, they would have been included. Big oversight on your part."

Something about the logic bothered Liniman, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Not wanting to appear stupid in front of his sponsor, he quickly relented. "OK, so what do I do with these? There's no detail here."

A surprised look, Turley examined the printout. "What? Oh, I must have forgotten to un-hide those columns. You know how terrible I am with Excel."

"Yes, I do. You always seem to print extra pages like this." Shawn tried to hand the page back. "Why don't you send me the soft copy of the spreadsheet? I'll get the numbers in by tomorrow."

Turley refused to take the paper. "Can't. I'm spending the rest of the day with Minh; we're doing a year-end reckoning. And I need the new numbers on my desk by first thing in the morning."

"Hey, how is Andy?"

"The same as always: he's very serious, and likely to be very unhappy if I'm late. So, let's finish with the numbers so that doesn't happen. I'll take a minute to tell you what I think you should do with them."

Shawn grabbed a pen off his desk. "Shoot."

Turley walked around to the back of the desk to look over Shawn's shoulder, taking a couple of minutes to describe how he wanted the numbers handled. Shawn wrote some notes on the page next to the line items. Turley patted Liniman on the shoulder. He grabbed the two extra pages and dropped them in the recycling canister next to the desk, and was headed for the door when a thought occurred to him.

"Hey, there is one more thing you can do for Andy and me."

Shawn smiled. "Anything you need." 

**Scene XVI - Buy More III**

Chuck found himself behind the Nerd Herd desk, answering questions from a reasonably intelligent guy about setting up a home network. On most days, he would have been thrilled to have a customer with a basic understanding of how a home network worked. Today, he just wanted a moment's peace.

He finished explaining how he would set up the network. "So, I would just pick up this $50 wireless router. It has four cable ports, and your wife's laptop should connect anywhere in the house using her built-in card. Just set up the router behind your monitor, and you can plug your desktop directly into one of the CAT5 ports."

The customer, a middle-aged gentleman wearing a UCLA Basketball cap and matching sweatshirt, smiled in understanding. "That makes sense." Chuck could sense another question building; he braced himself. "But what do I need to do about wireless security?"

Chuck felt relieved. He had put together a question-and-answer sheet on this router a month ago. "Good question. Let me grab this brochure for you …" Chuck looked under the desk and found the right folder. It was empty, likely from the "basketball game" the Buy More employees staged in the break room during lunch. 

Buy More Basketball involved crumpling up paper into balls and taking shots into the hoop, formed by Jeff sticking his arms out in a large circle in front of him. The green shirts quickly discovered that the best way to make a shot was to bank it off Jeff's face. At the time, Jeff was too hung over to really care. Chuck made a mental note to re-stock brochures after the games. He knew he had no real power to cancel the games.

That didn't change the fact that Chuck now either needed to explain the ins and outs of wireless security or print up more brochures. He asked the customer, "If you can wait here just for a minute, I need to grab a fact sheet from the back."

The customer looked irritated. Chuck apologized, "I'm sorry, but we seem to be out up here. It will only take a minute."

"Never mind; I'll look it up online." The customer grabbed the router and walked away.

Chuck sighed. At least the line at the counter was empty. For the first time all day, his head was above water.

He took a quick look through the brochure folders, taking an inventory of which ones needed replenishing, then headed towards Big Mike's office to use the printer. He walked quickly, looking neither left nor right, hoping to make it to the back room without being stopped. He was about twenty feet away when Morgan intercepted him.

"Chuck! Chuck!" Before Chuck could even turn to face Morgan, out came the request. "I need you to cover for me for a few."

Chuck checked his watch; it read 4:14. Today had been ugly, but at least it was getting close to quitting time. "Morgan, didn't I just cover for you a couple of hours ago?"

"Yeah, but I need to steal a few more minutes with Anna."

"I covered for you two hours ago so you could spend Anna's lunch break - and mine - with her?"

"Chuck, man, I can't help myself. She's my cherry pie."

Chuck's face filled with disbelief. Morgan, not noticing, continued slowly, staring off into space, "She's a cool drink of water."

"OK, I'm not helping you on general principle. You're quoting Warrant lyrics, for God's sake."

Morgan didn't seem to notice, his look growing more pensive. "Such a sweet surprise…"

"I'm outta here."

Morgan snapped out of his trance. "No, Chuck, wait. C'mon, I'd cover for you so you could hang with Sarah. You know I would."

"Actually, Morgan, what you did at lunch was the opposite of that. I was supposed to go hang with Sarah on my lunch break, but you got back so late I couldn't.

"Dude, what are you talking about? You had plenty of time to go see her. Sure, I was a little late…"

"How was I supposed to see her? Travel back in time?"

"Why are you so upset about five minutes? It's not like she works across town."

"What do you mean, five minutes? You came back at 12:30."

"Gotta disagree with you there, bud. You were covering for me, but nobody was covering for Anna. She had to be back by 12:10. Maybe the clock you checked was wrong?"

Chuck checked his watch; it now read 4:20. He pulled out his iPhone, and checked its clock. It read 3:55. Chuck felt terrible. Not only had he falsely accused Morgan, but his new watch didn't work right and he could have had lunch with Sarah. He wasn't sure how many more hits he could take today.

"Sorry, Morgan. My new watch seems to be fast."

"So, does that mean you'll cover for me? Daddy's gotta have his candy."

"I think I liked it better when you were quoting Warrant lyrics. Yeah, I got you for ten."

Morgan backed away, pointing both his fingers at Chuck. "You're my hero." Morgan started to run off.

"Ten minutes. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Chuck shouted after Morgan as he put away his iPhone.

"Well, that pretty much reduces his options to repairing computers, playing video games, and being generally useless when danger arises."

Chuck turned around to face an unhappy Casey. Chuck modified the thought: Casey was always unhappy, but he looked a little more unhappy than usual.

Chuck crossed his arms. "Good to see you're finally speaking to me. We haven't ever gone an entire shift at Buy More without you dropping an insult in my lap. Can I help you with something, or were you just looking to keep the streak intact."

"I wanted to give you a little friendly advice: stay the hell out of my head. It's not a pretty place."

Chuck had to process Casey's statement for a moment to figure out what he was talking about. He had expected Casey to be there about the mission. He finally figured out what Casey was talking about. "Hit a bit close to home last night, did I?"

Casey's eyes tightened. "Hardly. All the more reason you need to stop."

"That makes sense. Because you're never trying to get inside my head. Or listening to my conversations. Or judging me while doing your smirk-and-grunt routine."

"Trust me; nobody would be happier than I to stop. But it's my job to get inside your head."

"Well, thanks for the tip, Dr. Phil. One thing I have noticed: you seem pretty good at telling me what isn't part of my job. Just to change things up a little, why don't you tell me what is part of my job."

Casey took a step closer to Chuck. "'Job'? You don't have a 'job'. Your 'role' is to flash, let us know what you see and stay the hell out of our way. You're not an agent; you're an inconvenience. Don't forget that." He emphasized the last words by poking a finger in Chuck's chest.

Chuck's expression went from shocked to deeply hurt. He paused for a moment, unable to say anything. Casey just stood there glaring at him, clearly waiting for a retaliation.

Finally, Chuck spoke, very softly. "If you're finished giving me advice, Agent Casey, I have things to do. But I'll be sure to let you know if I flash on anything in the stock room." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked towards Big Mike's office. The slightest tinge of regret showed on Casey's face, but not until Chuck was almost to the office door.

Chuck tried to leave Casey's words behind him as he entered the office. It wasn't easy to do, given how the day had gone and how useless he tended to feel on most missions. He comforted himself with Sarah's words from the Christmas party, hoping Sarah's compliment about him being good at his job wasn't just her way of being nice. He distracted himself by focusing on getting the brochures printed.

Big Mike's office was empty. Chuck swung around the back of the desk to use the computer. It was locked, but Chuck knew the password. He unlocked the computer to find a very graphic email describing in great detail what the author would like to do to the recipient ... in somewhat broken English. Chuck instinctively glanced at the "to" and "from" lines on the email; it was to Big Mike from Chuck was more than a little disgusted.

"Chuck!" Big Mike bellowed as he entered the room, causing Chuck to shoot upright. "What have I told you about using the computer?"

"Um, you told me to use it whenever I needed to, Big Mike."

Big Mike looked uncertain. He was obviously looking for a reason to nail Chuck to the wall for using the computer, but he had none. In classic Big Mike form, he decided the best defense was a good offense.

"Do you know how many complaints I've gotten about customer service today?"

"Probably about as many as you get every 26th of December. The employees are hung over and hate to be back at work, and the customers are crabby about the crowded store."

"Chuck, that's not the point. A good assistant manager strives for improvement."

Chuck was confused. "That might be a good point … if I were an assistant manager."

"In order to become assistant manager, you need to show me you can do the job."

"So, you're argument is that in order to get the job, I have to do the job first?"

Big Mike shrugged. "Of course."

"Sounds like a pretty good excuse for you to fill the role without paying for somebody to do the job."

"Well, you could have just shown up for the interview last time and beaten out Harry for the position. I went out on a limb for you, Bartowski, and you let me down."

Chuck knew he had a number of ways he could respond here. He could call Big Mike on giving the job to Tang because of his affair, but that would sell out Morgan in the process. He could also attack Big Mike based upon the email he just read, but that would escalate things to a level where Chuck wasn't prepared to go. Chuck could only come up with one other option. "I explained that to you. My girlfriend had an emergency, and I…"

Big Mike was having none of it. "I don't want excuses, Bartowski. Just get your job done for a change. Show me that you can whip these guys into shape; they're your responsibility now. Now get out of here!"

He looked pleased with himself as Chuck retreated, a broken man.

Chuck exited the office and checked his watch. He bit back a curse as he remembered the time was incorrect. Looking up, the store clock on the far wall read 4:17, which meant 43 more minutes before his shift was done. He didn't care. He spotted Morgan at the front of the store, and started heading his way.

As he crossed the floor, he spotted Casey across the way in major appliances. Casey looked away from him with a scowl.

A customer tried to get his attention near the MP3 players. Chuck said he couldn't help him right now, pointing instead to a nearby green shirt.

Jeff and Lester sat at the Nerd Herd desk. Jeff winked at Chuck, while Lester rubbed the fingers of one hand across the thumb, reminding Chuck that they intended to come collecting for the lie Chuck had told them.

Anna was working in the plasma TV section, but Chuck couldn't have gotten her attention if he wanted to. She was more interested in trying to get Morgan's attention, sending flirty looks across the store rather than helping the annoyed customer in front of her.

Another customer approached Chuck, this time about mobile phones. Chuck half-heartedly apologized and moved along.

Chuck finally got to Morgan, who just finished restocking a display of DVDs on sale. Without preamble, he said, "Morgan, I need you to cover for me. Punch me out after five." He immediately turned and walked towards the front door, not really caring if Morgan heard him, or what Morgan's reaction was.

Chuck walked out of the front of the store. He paused for a moment, staring at the Weinerlicious. Sarah wasn't there; she was across town collecting intel from the Suburban. He wondered whether he would have headed over there if she was working.

Chuck turned left and walked down the sidewalk in front of the store, eyes downcast. He had only gone a few dozen paces when a pair of dark brown dress shoes intruded upon his vision. He looked up to confront the person in his path.

"Liniman, I'm really not in the mood right now."

**Scene XVII - Sarah's hotel room**

Sarah was laying on her stomach on the bed, crisp white sheets pulled to the side. Her eyes focused on the computer monitor in front of her, reviewing that day's footage from Liniman's office. It was all she could do to avoid falling asleep.

Casey had essentially called Liniman only slightly less boring than Chuck and Morgan. At the time, she thought Casey was just taking one of his customary little digs at the pair. Only now, after reviewing a morning's reconnaissance, did she realize what a grave insult it truly had been. Either this guy had the best cover in history, or he led an unbearably dull life.

After scanning the last few minutes of Liniman's morning, she grabbed a screen capture of the document on the desk and ran it through the image enhancement software to try to figure out what Liniman was working on. Despite having used the software a few times in the past, she wasn't particularly proficient, but she was doing well enough to know that what he was doing wasn't important. Currently, it looked like he was working on a grocery list. Liniman's demeanor suggested he was ready to slide it under more official-looking documents should anyone else walk in.

When the time on the surveillance video passed noon, Sarah paused the playback and got up to stretch. "Six hours of nothing," she muttered to herself. She rubbed her neck to work out the tension, trying to clear her head.

Sarah wondered if they were on the wrong track. After all, Chuck hadn't directly flashed on Liniman. Unfortunately, they had to take the chance that Liniman was somehow involved, because otherwise they were grasping at straws. The analysts back in Washington had turned up nothing substantial. The team couldn't very well bug every office at DCI Enterprises, and they had no idea where Minh was.

She started pacing across the room, going back to Chuck's flash. Something was odd about the way Chuck described his flash this time. Rather than flashing on one item, it was triggered by a combination of the name "DCI Enterprises" and the presence of Andon Minh. As far as she knew, the flashes were normally triggered by just one thing: a face, a distinguishing mark, a name. Two triggers, but only a single encoded image retrieved.

So, was Chuck's flash triggered by DCI Enterprises or Minh? The fact that both were involved seemed to be too much of a coincidence. 

Her iPhone rang, startling her out of her musings. She walked over to grab the phone off of the mirrored top of the nightstand. The monitor showed a rare picture of Casey smiling; she grinned. Sarah had only gotten Casey to pose for the picture by threatening to use the picture of Casey handcuffed to Carina's hotel bed in his cloverleaf boxer shorts if he refused. Not only did she get the picture of Casey smiling, she also got a great picture of an embarrassed Casey as she made the threat.

"Walker here."

"Walker. Casey. Are you with Chuck?" Casey sounded suspicious.

"No, I'm in my hotel room reviewing tape. I thought you were watching him tonight."

There was a pause. "Yes, I am."

Sarah grew alarmed. "You don't know where he is? You have an interesting way of 'watching' somebody. Casey, where…"

"Look, last time I saw him, he was at the Buy More. His shift ended at 5:00, just like mine." Sarah instinctively checked the clock Chuck gave her; it read 6:32.

He continued, "At 4:50, I checked the store top-to-bottom; he was nowhere to be found, and he wasn't out on a service call. His jacket is still there. The GPS device on his car led me right to it: it's still in the Buy More lot. He wasn't at the spy store, or any of his other hangouts in the Buy More plaza. I even checked Lou's.

"Chuck's not answering his phone. His room is dark, nobody is answering the door at the apartment, and there is no noise on any of my monitoring devices. Did you stick a GPS device in that watch you gave him?"

Sarah flushed. "No, I didn't."

"Damnit, Walker…"

"Casey, he was your assignment tonight. Don't you dare try to throw this back on me!"

"Just give him a call, then call me right back." Casey hung up.

Sarah cleared the phone of Casey's image, cursing under her breath. She pressed down the '2' to speed-dial Chuck. Up came a picture of Chuck; she held the phone to her ear. "C'mon, Chuck, pick up," she muttered impatiently.

Somewhere Chuck's phone rang, an eternity passing between each ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. 

Chuck's voice mail picked up.

Sarah broke into a cold sweat. They had no idea where Chuck was.


	5. It Could Always Be Worse

**Scene XVIII - Sarah's Hotel Room**

Sarah was pacing across her hotel room, but the austere decor didn't even register. "Casey, Chuck isn't picking up."

"OK, let's think this through. The most likely suspects for Chuck to hang out with are Ellie and Morgan. I know Morgan had to work until 6:30 tonight; do you know what is going on with Ellie?"

Sarah thought back to Christmas; they had talked about their schedules for the week. "Yes, Ellie and Devon both pull a long shift today. Ellie gets off at 7:00, Devon at 11:00."

"That rules out Chuck meeting any of them; he wouldn't hang out somewhere waiting for an hour and a half. Any other friends Chuck might meet up with?"

"None that come to mind. When the subject of meeting up with people came up yesterday, Chuck only mentioned that he was catching up with a high school friend on the 28th. That's our meeting with Liniman."

Casey didn't reply immediately. "This isn't looking good. I'm going to head back to the Buy More to check the security camera logs from the home theatre room. Maybe I can get a clue there."

"That's a big of a long shot, isn't it?"

"You got a better idea?"

"Not really. I guess I'd better start thinking up excuses to call Morgan and Ellie, in case they know something."

"Another long shot."

"Yeah, well, that seems like all we have right now."

"Agreed. I'll have my phone."

Sarah sensed Casey was about to hang up again. "Casey, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Can you think of anything unusual that happened at work today?"

"Unusual?"

Sarah grew suspicious instantly. She shouldn't have to pull this type of thing out of an agent, and especially not Casey. "C'mon, Casey. You know the type of thing I'm talking about."

There was a long pause at the other end of the line. "Well, I may have told him that I didn't consider him to be an agent. And I may have called him an 'inconvenience'."

Sarah stood in shocked silence for a moment. Casey actually sounded contrite; in a normal situation, she would have burst out laughing. This was not a normal situation. In a voice that grew angrier as she spoke, she demanded, "Why am I just now hearing about this now? And what were you thinking?"

"Focus, CIA. We can have that conversation later."

"Oh, you can count on that." 

In an even, controlled tone, Casey asked, "Walker, does that help you with where Chuck might be?"

Sarah shook off her anger. Casey was right: as much as she wanted to lay into him, there were bigger fish to fry. However, that didn't mean she felt the need to strip her frustration from her voice. "I don't know. How did he take your comments?"

Another pause; Sarah read between the lines. "I see. Well, let's think about the places he might go if he's feeling down. And remember that he doesn't have his car or his coat: that limits the search radius." 

They both quietly considered the possibilities. Sarah threw out the first idea: "The beach is out: he would need his car and his coat for that."

"He also has a fondness for that arcade down on the pier, but that's out for the same reason."

"You already checked the Buy More plaza. That rules out a handful of places. And his other hangouts are too far away."

There was an empty silence; both were out of ideas. Casey spoke first. "Sorry, Walker, I got nothing else. I'll keep thinking about it as I head to the Buy More. I'll scan the security camera logs and take one more look around the plaza."

"No. Casey, you stay there and monitor the apartment. I'll dig through the security tapes at the Buy More; I don't have anything else I can be doing."

Casey paused, as if trying to find a flaw in the logic; he clearly wanted to clean up his own mess. Reluctantly, he conceded, "I guess that makes sense."

"One other thing. If you find Chuck, you stay away and give me a call. I'm guessing he won't be happy to see you right about now."

"You're probably right." Casey hung up.

Sarah pocketed her phone and grabbed her keys and her coat. She was out the door in ten seconds.

On her way to the Buy More, Sarah knew she could be coming up with excuses for calling Morgan and Ellie, but all she could do was picture scenes from Christmas. Even though it was only yesterday, it seemed such a long, long way away.

**Scene XIX - Buy More**

Sarah strode through the deserted Buy More. She wasn't being as careful as she probably should be; if one of the employees lingered, she would have a tough time talking her way out of it. It couldn't be helped; Casey's foot was nailed down at the apartment.

She made a beeline for the media room, locking the doors and pulling the curtains. She dialed Chuck one more time; again, she got his voice mail. Trying to stay calm, she left another terse message. "Chuck, it's Sarah. Call me the instant you get this." She hung up quickly and jammed the phone into her pocket.

It took a minute to locate the remote between two couch cushions and punch in the codes to gain access to the system. A direct feed had been established to each of the Buy More security cameras; a two-week supply of each of the feeds was stored in two-hour blocks on a hard drive installed into the wall. She loaded up the software that synchronized playback of all nine feeds in a 3x3 grid.

The main camera seemed to be her best option; it was mounted in the front corner and covered most of the store. Selecting the video segment that ended at 5 pm, she rewound the recording until she managed to spot Chuck, mostly obscured by Casey's large frame. She paused the video and returned to the preview mode, looking for a better angle. The camera that pointed into the big screen TV section contained a profile view of the pair; she zoomed in. Both of their body languages were confrontational, with Casey being the more aggressive. She pressed play.

Chuck finished saying his piece, then Casey closed the last of the distance between them and poked Chuck in the chest. His face looked shocked and hurt; that must have been where Casey called Chuck an inconvenience. 

Sarah recognized the look on Chuck's face; it was the same look he gave her in the hotel room before they headed out for the Kirk casino mission. That particular night, Sarah was caught up feeling sorry for herself. Even then, she couldn't stop from hurting Chuck. Chuck had tried to lighten the mood, and she described the casino mission as "work".

It was bad enough that she slapped away the olive branch he tried to hand her. The worst part was that Sarah had, at one point, specifically told Chuck that she never considered their time together work. Chuck's face had clearly showed that he had made the connection.

Sarah shook off the memory. She couldn't afford to be distracted by past transgressions now, although she certainly was going to have a little talk with Agent Casey when the dust settled.

Skimming the video and moving from feed to feed, she managed to follow Chuck's entrance into the office. Soon after, Big Mike entered the office. A few minutes passed, and Chuck exited, looking worse than he had before. She wondered what had happened.

Switching security cameras twice, she followed Chuck to the front of the store. Occasionally, Chuck would look in different directions in the store or brush off a customer; his face subtly growing more agonized as he headed to the front of the store. He said something to Morgan and immediately headed for the front of the store, shoulders slumped. Morgan turned and stared after Chuck.

She paused the playback and analyzed Morgan's face. His expression was shocked; she wondered what Chuck had said. Slowly scanning forward, she watched Morgan's expression gradually shift into one of worry. Chuck walked out the front of the store without turning around. The time on the monitor said 4:19.

A sense of relief washed over Sarah. Everything she saw indicated Chuck was having a lousy day, and given Chuck wasn't the suicidal type, odds were good that he just needed to clear his head. That would certainly explain forgetting his coat, and if the keys were in one of its pockets, why he might have chosen to walk home.

There was one more camera outside the front of the store. She switched to it. Chuck stood staring at the Weinerlicious for a brief moment. Unfortunately, she had no angle on his face. Believing Chuck was safe, she allowed herself to linger; she wondered what he was thinking. Chuck would know that she had left for the DCI Enterprises campus to retrieve the surveillance. Did he wish he could talk with her? Or did he consider her part of the problem? It was certainly possible that he suspected she felt the same way as Casey about his contributions, and nothing could be further from the truth. She wished she could talk to him.

By the time Chuck turned to his left, his face was flat. No clues there. She pondered a little more as he walked. Then her heart stopped.

Shawn Liniman stood on the left side of the screen, his arms crossed and a cruel look on his face. He seemed to be waiting for Chuck.

Chuck clearly didn't see Shawn. Sarah stifled an instinctive cry to warn him, but Chuck didn't notice Shawn until he was right on top of him. Chuck's face looked tired and annoyed when he recognized Shawn. He said something, and walked right past him, out of view of the camera. Shawn turned and jogged after him, reaching out with one hand.

An icy chill traveled Sarah's spine as she started putting some things together. Minh supposedly dealt in confidential information; how deep were his connections? Could he have somehow found out about Chuck and sent Liniman to grab him? The Doctor had planned to sell Chuck on the black market. Certainly Minh would have similar connections.

The Doctor had nearly gotten away with Chuck. If Liniman had grabbed Chuck, he could already be on his way out of the country.

And if he was, she'd never see him again.

Sarah became frantic. He had to be fine. She called Chuck again. Still no answer.

She pressed the '3' on her speed dial to call Casey. She had to report what she had found.

**Scene XX - A Dark Room**

Chuck lay horizontally, unable to move. He could almost feel the chemicals running through his veins. He didn't care.

He couldn't see a thing. He didn't care.

A terrible sound assaulted his ears. He didn't care.

Chuck's mind blearily flashed from memory to memory, none of it from the Intersect. Jeff winking. Lester rubbing his fingers together. His watch running fast. Customers laying into him. Big Mike laying into him. Anna twirling her hair around a finger. Casey poking his finger into Chuck's chest. Liniman, with that smug, cruel grin on his face.

Chuck's mind floated from person to person; he took turns being angry at each of them, over and over again. He didn't deserve this.

A voice, speaking over the noise in a singsong voice, resonated in his ears.

_This is the first day of my last days._

A guitar solo belted into his ears. He didn't flinch.

_I built it up, now I take it apart, climbed up real high, now fall down real far._

Trent Reznor's guitar burned his ears again. Chuck didn't move.

_No need for me to stay; the last thing left, I just threw it away._

Again the guitar.

_I put my faith in God and my trust in you; now there's nothing more screwed up I could do._

Chuck didn't pretend to know about God, but at the reference to trust, he couldn't help but think of Sarah. And thinking of Sarah wasn't really a recipe for cheering up.

In fairness, thinking of Sarah was a small step in the right direction. Chuck wanted to be angry with Sarah, but at least she had been straight with him. She hadn't gone out of her way to be cruel to him for no reason. Well, except for the kiss, but Chuck allowed that thinking you only have seconds to live could cloud anyone's head. 

He tried to clear his own clouded head. He knew he wasn't thinking rationally. Then again, whenever Chuck broke out Nine Inch Nails, he was beyond rational thinking. 

Especially when he played the album four times in a row.

_Wish there was something real, wish there was something true,_

Chuck conjured up the strength to move, sat up in his bed, and turned on the lamp on his nightstand. Next to his lamp stood a fifth of rum and a two-liter bottle of Coke, along with a tall, empty glass. Both the bottles were missing a significant portion. They had both been opened on Christmas, so Chuck really didn't know how much he had drank. Not that he cared. He reached for the rum.

_Wish there was something real in this world full of you._

His hand stopped inches away from the rum bottle, and instead reached over and took the picture of Sarah and him from his nightstand. Mostly this song was just about anger to Chuck, but a couple of the lines rang pretty true at the moment. He stared at her for a moment, then decided it just hurt too much. He had known it would, he reminded himself.

To be fair, he hadn't counted on the little things … like her scent lingering on her pillow.

Chuck decided his ears had been tortured enough. He pulled off the canister headphones just as the next verse started. As steadily as he could, He walked across the room, docking his iPod into his stereo. Nine Inch Nails was back in full voice.

_No new tale to tell; 26 years on my way to hell._

Yeah, a couple of the lines definitely rang true right about now. Across the room, his phone lit up with Sarah's picture again, its ring obscured by angry guitar chords. Chuck didn't notice.

**Scene XXI - Casa Bartowski, Living Room**

Morgan lounged on the sofa, feet over one arm as he watched TV. Ellie entered through the front door, carrying groceries. She directed a look of surprise at Morgan.

"Hey, Morgan. Where's Chuck?"

Morgan turned off the TV. "Chuck's ... a little down right now."

As if to accentuate Morgan's statement, the sound of loud music suddenly comes from Chuck's room. The two froze, trying to determine what album Chuck is playing. 

Ellie's face fell. "Uh oh. He broke out the Nine Inch Nails. He hasn't done that in a long time."

Morgan nodded sagely. "His anniversary with Jill, a few months back. At least the headphones are off."

"Do you know what's eating him?" she asked with a concerned expression.

"I think he just had a rough day. I was going to give him a little more time to cool off."

Ellie gave Morgan a sad but thankful little smile, and headed into the kitchen to put away groceries. Morgan turned off the TV and switched to a gaming magazine. 

Time passed. Ellie had made some pasta, and the two sat eating in the living room. The album finished; nothing immediately followed. Ellie's expression grew more worried. "Do you think one of us should go in there?"

Morgan held up a hand. "Not yet. Let's see what he puts on next."

Suddenly, a soft, a capella female voice filled the apartment. 

_We are miners; hard rock miners. To the shaft-house we must go._

Morgan said, "Bad. Bad. Very bad." 

Ellie looked at him questioningly. Morgan answered, a bit too dramatically, "He's put on the Cowboy Junkies."

Her face showed that meant nothing to her. "And that's bad?"

Morgan stared at Ellie for a second before answering. "The opening song is about workers who trudge into mine shafts every day despite knowing they are contracting lung disease. The happiest song on the album might be the cover of Hank Williams' 'I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry'."

"That's not good."

"No, it's not." Morgan straightened his shoulders. "I'm going in."

Morgan strode back to Chuck's room and entered without knocking. Chuck sat on the edge of his bed, face in his hands. Morgan closed the door behind him, and sat down next to Chuck, unconsciously hunching over to mirror Chuck's posture. Chuck didn't acknowledge him.

Morgan looked a little uncertain where to begin. "So, Chuck … 'The Trinity Session'. Did you get kicked out of Stanford again, or did a rogue band of bikers gun down everyone you care about? Because those are about the only times depressing enough to actually break out this album."

Chuck didn't move. "This album is highly underrated," he said into his hands.

"Please, after Nine Inch Nails?"

Chuck rubbed his face, dropping his hands to his sides as he stared at the wall. "Just a bad day."

"Yeah, Ellie and I picked up on that. You want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Today was one of those existential, Finagle's Law experiences which makes you want to switch lives with somebody."

"Finagle's Law?"

"It's like Murphy's Law, but worse. 'Anything that can go wrong, will, and at the worst possible moment.'"

"Well, Murphy was an optimist. Just tell me you and Sarah didn't break up again."

"No, nothing like that."

Morgan slapped Chuck on the shoulder. "Dude, then what are you doing moping about in your room? That's half the point of having a girlfriend. Go get yourself some comforting."

Much as he wanted to, Chuck couldn't very well tell Morgan that Sarah was not-so-much his girlfriend as an agent off reviewing surveillance footage from a stakeout of their old high school classmate. He deflected, "She's got other plans tonight." He didn't turn to face Morgan until after he finished his statement. While not technically a lie, Chuck still felt bad hiding things from his best friend.

"That sucks. 'Cause when I was a little depressed last weekend, Anna…" Morgan turned mid-statement to face Chuck, and was leaning towards him with one leg folded under him.

Chuck, sensing disaster, headed him off. "Stop right there."

"No, man, you gotta hear…"

Chuck put a hand on Morgan's shoulder and looked him square in the eye. In a low voice that suggested his lunch was already threatening to visit his throat, he said, "Stop. I'm begging you. I already feel queasy enough from the rum and Cokes."

Morgan looked over at the bottles on the nightstand. "How many did you have?"

"Dunno. Three?"

"Lightweight. Tell you what: I'll blow off Anna tonight. You go give your sister a hug and grab a plate of the killer pasta she made. I'll catch up, and then we'll suit up and play World of Warcraft, Call of Duty, whatever you want. Guys' Night In. What do you say?"

Even if the notion didn't appeal to Chuck, he would have found it hard to turn down Morgan. His expression made him hard to turn down to begin with, but blowing off Anna was the clincher: that was no small thing to him. In a slow cadence, he responded gratefully, "Actually, that sounds really good."

Morgan's face lit up. "That's what I'm talking about. Give me ten minutes." He trotted out of the room, singing a war song from Lord of the Rings. Chuck smiled despite himself.

He pulled himself together, stood up and walked into the living room just in time to hear the front door close behind Morgan. Ellie turned away from watching Morgan's exit; she looked relieved. As she got up from the couch, she asked, "You OK?"

Chuck felt guilty about making her worry. "Yeah, sis', I'm all right." He walked over and gave her a hug, which she gladly returned. "Just a bad day. I'll shake it off."

"I'll get you a bowl of pasta, and we'll talk for a few minutes. I assume you and Morgan are going into battle?" Chuck looked at her curiously. Ellie continued, "I have no idea what Morgan was singing, but in the past it's usually been followed by several hours of serious gaming."

Chuck grinned foolishly at her. "Yep, that's the plan."

"Whatever works." She gave him a loving smile and walked back into the kitchen to fix him a plate.

His gaze followed her into the kitchen, where she bustled about, whistling a happy tune. Through the window, Morgan was heatedly explaining to Anna why he couldn't meet up with her tonight; apparently she wasn't entirely pleased, but Morgan wasn't backing down an inch. Chuck smiled.

Today had been a terrible day. But the people he loved were still safe and in his life. Things could be much, much worse.

**Scene XXII - Buy More Media Room**

Sarah's breath caught in her throat as the phone rang. She couldn't get in touch with Casey fast enough. Finally, he picked up.

"Casey here."

Sarah immediately started stammering, her words tumbling over each other. "Casey, I just finished with the logs. Chuck ran into Liniman outside the Buy More after he left. I couldn't see what…"

"Walker, stop."

"Casey, Chuck might be…"

"Chuck is safe. He's home."

"What?"

"Chuck is home. He's been listening to music and drinking rum and Cokes. I'm listening in on him and Morgan right now."

Sarah's heart started beating at a more normal pace again. "That's … that's good. But why didn't you know he was there? And why didn't he answer my calls?"

"My guess? Lights off, headphones, shutting out the world. Hell, he scared the crap out of me when he switched to his stereo. I had the volume cranked on the surveillance equipment."

Sarah took a few deep breaths to calm herself. She closed her eyes with relief. Chuck was OK. He was OK. The Intersect was safe. Chuck was OK.

Casey continued, "Morgan just came in to pull him out of the dumps. They didn't say anything interesting ... not that that's a big surprise."

Sarah ignored Casey; she only wanted to wrap her arms around Chuck, although she wasn't sure whether she wanted to strangle him or hug him. She tried to manufacture a reason to see him. "Maybe I should head over there. He ran into Liniman …"

"You can't go over there."

"What!" Her tone basically asked, "How exactly are you going to stop me?"

"Chuck told Morgan that you were busy tonight. You show up unexpectedly, and you'll have things to explain."

Sarah's mind was still foggy, so it took her a moment to process what he said. After a second, she responded, "I can talk my way around that."

"Look, Chuck's been drinking, and even if you can manage the cover, he might slip up. He and Morgan are just going to play video games the rest of the night. There's no point in risking your cover for something that doesn't matter."

"But Chuck saw Liniman…"

"Chuck didn't call in. No matter how depressed he was, he would have called anything in."

Sarah knew he was right, but she desperately wanted there to be some reason for her to see Chuck. She needed a reason. The problem is there wasn't a good one, and Casey would know immediately if she showed. There was a long pause while she tried to figure out a way around it.

"Is there a problem, Walker?"

She couldn't come up with anything; she took it out on Casey. "Yes. There's definitely a problem with verbally attacking your assignment and losing track of him for three hours. But we can talk about that tomorrow." Sarah angrily hung up.

Sarah dropped onto the couch, trying to collect herself. Her anger drained away, replaced with a sense of relief. She had spent a fair bit of the last hour terrified that Chuck was gone, which tore her up both on a personal and professional level. It wasn't something she was going to recover from immediately.

What Sarah wouldn't have given for Chuck to be there, reclining on the couch, available to wrap his arm around her as she rested her head on his shoulder, if only for a few minutes.

**Scene XXIII - Restaurant**

Jonathon Turley and Andon Minh sat in a quiet back corner of an Asian restaurant. A red tablecloth covered the table, with matching red curtains hanging behind the curved bench from a circular rod mounted on the ceiling. The booth could seat eight, but the pair had the table to themselves, and the surrounding tables were unoccupied. Two full place settings were pushed off to the sides, replaced by small stacks of log books.

Minh said, "So, you've finished the books for the year, then?"

"Almost. I have a few more entries to add. Just the last couple dozen line items you gave me; they should be on my desk now."

Minh looked at Turley intently. "And there won't be any question about the entries?"

Jonathon shook his head. "Not if the source account numbers you gave me lead to respectable institutions overseas. I'm trusting you a great deal, here, Andy."

"And I've earned that trust, I think. I've made you a very rich man."

"That you have, my friend."

Minh gave an oily smile. "Well, I guess we're done, then. Time to celebrate a little, I think." He signaled to the waiter, a Vietnamese man wearing crisp black button-down and black pants under a white apron. Upon noticing the request, the waiter stopped busing a table and took a couple of steps towards them. Minh gave him an order in Vietnamese. 

As the waiter left, Turley continued, "Absolutely. Especially since with this last quarter's results, I should gain access to even more to 'share' with you."

Minh looked at Turley curiously. "Your company really has no idea why your division keeps posting such fabulous results?"

Turley looked pleased with the implicit praise in the inquiry. Before he could respond, the waiter delivered a tray with a bottle and two small glasses. Minh, as an aside, confirmed, "You like sake, yes?"

"Yes, thank you." The waiter filled both cups as Turley continued. "And no, my company has no idea. They're just convinced at this point that I can sell ice to Eskimos. My divisions have survived two audits, and the board is too happy to ask many questions."

"So what's your secret?"

"Well, I handle a fair bit of the details, but I've also got an accountant totally focused on avoiding audit traps. You've met him, actually: Shawn Liniman?"

Minh pursed his lips. "Yes. Not the most likeable man. Bit of a weasel."

"Yeah, but I have to give him credit: he can hide pretty much anything. Of course, he has no idea what he is hiding, and what he doesn't know can't hurt us." Turley laughed.

"True enough. But certainly nobody else knows."

"Nope. Only Shawn and I, and Shawn doesn't really know anything. Heck, he's holding my next delivery to you and doesn't have a clue." At that tidbit, Minh's eyes betrayed some interest, but he quickly changed the subject.

"Good, good. Then here is to a successful new year." The two toasted and drank. 

Turley's face puckered slightly as he drank about half his sake. "Interesting flavor; what variety of sake is this? I don't think I've ever tasted anything quite like it."

Minh had finished about half of his glass as well. "I'd be surprised if you had. If I remember correctly, you are terribly allergic to shellfish, yes?"

Turley looked puzzled, then slightly horrified. "Why do you ask?" His voice sounded scratchy. 

Looking at him calmly, Ming explained, "I took the liberty of having the waiter add a shellfish extract to the sake. It is generally used as a flavoring agent in Japanese food. I am surprised to find how much I enjoy it in the sake; quite unexpected." He finished his glass.

Turley's eyes started tearing uncontrollably, and he started gasping for breath.

Unphased, Minh continued, "Unfortunately for you, we recently made a sweep of your campus and discovered that NSA agents are monitoring your offices from your parking lot. That means that they are getting a little too close to me. I'm afraid I need to cauterize the wound, as it were." He smiled apologetically.

Turley called for help, but his voice came out as a coughing whisper, unlikely to be heard by anyone. He clumsily tried to exit the booth, but the waiter entered his side of the bench, blocking his path. The waiter quickly set a Styrofoam carry-out box on Minh's side of the table and closed the curtains.

His face flushed, Turley weakly attempted to push past the man, but the other man guided Turley towards the back of the booth. Turley's strength failed him, and he fell onto the bench, slowly tumbling onto the floor under the table. His wheezing gasps gradually faded.

Minh looked down at Turley, his expression a bit sad. "I am sorry our partnership had to end. You carried out your end of things remarkably well." He looked more like a guy who had lost a hand of cards than a man who had executed a partner.

Turning his attention to the waiter, he said, "There is one other loose end to wrap up. Turley had an accomplice, one 'Shawn Liniman', who helped him hide his dealings with me. It sounds like he has no idea what he has been covering up, but I am not one to take risks." He stood up. "Give this a couple of days to blow over, and then tie up the last loose end." 

He paused, a thought occurring to him. "Before you finalize things, see if you can find out about a last delivery that Shawn prepared for us." Minh ducked through the red curtains around the booth, log books under one arm, and walked out the front door. 

A few minutes later, the waiter also ducked through the curtains, carrying the tray with the stoppered sake bottle and the now-empty glasses in one hand, with the carry-out box in the other. He entered the bustling kitchen, hardly attracting any notice from the busy staff, dropping the Styrofoam container into a trash can. 

Casually exiting into the deserted alleyway, the waiter took a second to dump the remaining contents of the bottle through a sewer grate. As he walked to the dumpster at the end of the alley, he paused to discard the glasses, the bottle and the apron in a dumpster. The man stepped out onto the sidewalk, quietly going about his business and attracting no notice.

When the staff found Turley later, his head lay to the side of a plate filled with the house specialty: noodles with a mix of meats, including shellfish. His waiter was found passed out drunk in the back alleyway; he claimed he couldn't remember serving the man (or drinking, for that matter), but his pad clearly specified "no shellfish" on the order for Turley's table. Turley's death was ruled anaphylactic shock; there was no investigation.


	6. A Better Day

**Scene XXIV - Buy More Plaza**

Chuck was feeling pretty good as he strode across the parking lot, all things considered. 

Since Chuck and Morgan were feeling "old school" about the guys' night in experience, they decided to play on a few of the Quake III servers that were still floating around. Despite having put a considerable dent into the fifth of rum, they still managed to acquit themselves pretty well against the members of a clan playing Capture the Flag. They were especially effective on the space maps, where Chuck would find a high perch and control the board with his rail gun; Morgan would spray the enemy base with rockets before sneaking in and making off with the flag. Given how late they had played and the amount they had drank, Chuck didn't feel the hangover he expected.

At the Buy More the next day, Anna acted standoffish towards Morgan until Chuck made it a point to thank her for letting Morgan hang out with him. She somewhat petulantly said she would forgive Morgan, especially when she learned that Morgan had left a surprise for her in her locker.

Chuck had put a vase of flowers into her locker that morning. Morgan took care of Chuck, and Chuck took care of Morgan.

On top of that success, most of the people who annoyed Chuck so deeply the prior day were not around. Big Mike stayed closeted in his office, Jeff and Lester had the day off, Casey was off on reconnaissance, and the post-Christmas rush was largely over.

All that led to Chuck being in a fairly good mood as he headed over to see Sarah on her lunch break. Chuck slipped out about ten minutes earlier than normal for his lunch break, with Morgan covering for him. He was pleased: it made great sense for their cover. He might get this agent thing down yet.

Farther removed from Christmas, he also felt he was in a pretty good frame of mind regarding Sarah. Maybe he was starting to move past his feelings for her after all.

Sarah was behind the counter in her Weinerlicious uniform with her sweater wrapped around her shoulders. She was hunched down over the counter building what looked like a teepee made from six straws as he entered; other than Sarah, the restaurant was deserted. It never occurred to Chuck that hot dogs might not be a big seller during the holiday week, but it made sense. Sarah was clearly bored out of her mind. 

As the door swung shut, the bell let out a cheerful ring, disrupting Sarah's concentration. When she looked up to see Chuck walking towards her, a look of surprise took over her face, probably because he was early. She straightened up, knocking over her teepee in the process. Chuck stifled a laugh; Sarah was so rarely clumsy. Momentarily distracted by the falling straws, he missed the series of emotions that crossed her face. 

When he looked back at her, her face had settled into a tentative smile. Chuck offered a genuine smile in return, which helped amplify hers into a more genuine one as well.

"Hey," Chuck offered in a calm, confident voice. "Long time no see."

"Hey, yourself." Sarah responded, managing to sound a little shy. "You know, you really shouldn't abandon your girlfriend for a day and a half like that, especially during the holidays."

Chuck liked the playful Sarah. She had been absent for a while after Bryce's visit; it was good to have her back. It was also good she felt she could joke about their cover again, as it showed she wasn't as worried that his feelings would get the better of him. Just more confirmation that he might be able to leave those feelings behind him soon.

He apologized, "Yeah, sorry about that."

"You know, you need to return my calls. I can't protect you if I don't know where you are."

Chuck was surprised; normally Sarah would have been far more serious about anything job-related, but her expression looked almost … grateful. Still, he recognized the need to explain. "Yesterday was a bit of a rough day. I was in a bit of a bad place…" Chuck noticed the look on Sarah's face. "… but you already knew that," he finished.

She nodded, her face sympathetic. "Casey filled me in on some of the details."

Flashing back to his conversation with Casey, he was forced to relive his words. His face lost some of its color, and he felt his good mood start to evaporate. "What did he tell you?"

"That he said a couple of things that he regrets."

Sarah was obviously trying to defuse things between the two, which only made sense. That likely explained the series of phone calls from her the night before. Chuck wasn't buying it. "Really. Because in my experience, Casey is generally a pretty straight shooter when it comes to how he feels. So if he regrets what he said, he only regrets that he let his true feelings become known." 

"I don't know all the details about what Casey said to you, but…" She was going to continue, but Chuck cut her off, his voice raised.

"Did he mention the word 'inconvenience', by chance? I thought that summed up his thoughts pretty well."

"Actually, he did. Chuck, he doesn't really believe that."

"And you know that how?" 

Sarah hesitated for just a second, and after that, she had no chance of convincing him. "I just do. You'll have to trust me on this one."

He tried to bite back his sarcasm, but the wound was just too fresh. "Ah, there's that word again."

"What word?"

"'Trust'. You know, the dirty word in agent circles." The words were barely out of his mouth when he regretted them. It wasn't Sarah he was angry with, but here he was attacking her. He hoped she would stick with Casey.

Instead, Sarah became defensive, looking a little hurt. Her voice got quiet and slow. "So, that obviously means you don't trust me."

Those words stopped Chuck cold. Chuck really, really wanted to trust Sarah. Every instinct told him to trust her, but the rational side of his brain told him how foolish that would be.

In as calm a voice he could muster, he explained, "Sarah, I don't pretend to know a lot about being an agent. But Carina, and Bryce, and Casey, and even you have told me that trust is a luxury that an agent cannot afford. Yet from the night I found out that you were a spy, you've asked me to trust you. It seems to me that, having to live in your world, trusting anyone would be a pretty foolish decision."

Sarah's look of hurt grew, tearing Chuck up on the inside. Maybe he wasn't as far past his feelings for her as he had hoped.

Sarah responded to his explanation in an emotional voice, "Chuck, I need you to trust me. You're right: trust is a luxury an agent cannot afford. I'd be a fool to trust Carina. I cannot afford to trust Casey. I don't know if I can trust Bryce. But I trust you." Sarah delivered the declaration as a teen might admit to loving another for the first time: she was unable to look directly at Chuck until the very end of her statement, struggling just to get the words out.

Chuck's honest streak got the better of him and he just couldn't let that go. "Am I really supposed to believe that I'm the one exception in your world?"

Sarah locked eyes with him, and without hesitation she replied, in a low, quavering voice, "Yes, you are. But I don't have anything to offer you to back that up. I guess you'll have to look inside your heart and decide for yourself."

The bell on the door rang; Chuck turned around instinctively. He stiffened as Casey walked in.

Casey apparently sensed the tension in the air. His eyes tightened. "Am I interrupting something?"

Stiffly, Chuck responded, "Not that it's any of your business, but Sarah was just defending you."

Casey's mouth curled into a small smirk. "Really. That sounds a lot like my business, but it'll have to wait for another time. I was scanning this morning's surveillance, and Liniman was informed that his boss died last night. Liniman looked like somebody drowned his puppy."

Sarah slipped into spy mode quickly. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything. People die."

"Yeah, but not all of them die eating a Vietnamese food order that 'accidentally' included shellfish, causing a fatal allergic reaction."

Chuck whistled. Sarah said, "That is more than a little suspicious. So, Minh might be covering his tracks, and Liniman might be next."

"Yep, the game has changed. Walker, did you notice anything on the feeds from yesterday?"

Sarah turned a little red. "Nothing on the morning surveillance, but I never finished the afternoon feeds. I was a little distracted last night."

Her statement confused Chuck. He looked back and forth between the two. "What was this?"

Casey looked surprised. "She didn't tell you? We lost track of you for a couple of hours last night when you ducked out of work early." Chuck looked over at Sarah, who nodded, her face tight and impossible to read. Chuck was momentarily shocked that Sarah didn't lay into him for not returning her calls, but Casey distracted him by continuing, "We'll need to talk about that, by the way."

"It will be a short conversation."

Casey grunted as if he didn't agree. "Another time. We need to finish reviewing those tapes, and report in later tonight to get our orders. I'm to stick with Liniman in case Minh or a henchman shows up."

Sarah said, "One problem; I'm stuck here all afternoon, and all my possible replacements are out for the holidays. After running out on the store when we took down Kirk, I can't do it, or I'll get fired."

Casey turned to Chuck. "Well, you up for it?"

Chuck, his face stony, replied, "It's not really part of my job, is it."

Classic Casey would have been to fire back. Instead, he offered with the slightest hint of a smile, "Yes, it is."

It was probably as close to an apology as Chuck would get. Chuck didn't respond, but his expression softened a little. He turned to look at Sarah, whose smiling face clearly said, "I told you so."

Casey wasn't about to stand around for a touching scene; he headed for the door. Holding the door open, he turned back for a moment. "Oh, and Bartowski? Try not to screw it up." He exited the shop.

**Scene XXV - Casey's apartment**

The light was fading outside Casey's apartment. Sarah stood in front of the computer monitor in the living room, briefing the general and the director. Chuck entered the room, out of breath, carrying the synchronization equipment used to review the surveillance. The door slammed behind him as he rushed into the view of the commanders, arms full of gear.

"I'm here. I'm here," he called out.

General Beckman appeared less than concerned. "Continue, Agent Walker." 

As Chuck tried to find a safe place to put the equipment, Sarah obliged the general. "Given the way Liniman's boss died, we feel that Minh is covering his tracks. We feel he will go after Liniman next."

Director Graham rumbled, "So, all you really have is the Intersect's flash and a man who died of an allergic reaction. That's pretty thin." 

The general chimed in, "Agent Casey's reports chronicle in excruciating detail about how nothing that Shawn Liniman does is the least bit suspicious. Do you have anything else?" Her tone indicated that she thought she knew the answer.

Chuck, hesitantly raising a hand to about shoulder height, replied in a slightly timid voice, "Yes, there is." Sarah looked hopefully at Chuck.

The director and general shifted their gazes to Chuck. Rather disdainfully, the director replied, "Oh?"

"Give me just a minute, and I'll show you." Chuck fumbled around with the surveillance equipment, looking for the appropriate place to plug it into the communication system. "The software you have on this thing is pretty powerful. You can do some great stuff with it."

The director sneered, "I'm glad you like it. Can we get on with this?"

Chuck finished setting up. "OK, OK, here we go. Chuck pressed a button, and a black screen appeared on the side of the main monitor. He frowned and pressed a pair of buttons in combination. 

Up popped a scene from Monty Python's 'The Holy Grail'. A man in a wizard's costume said, "So, brave knights, if you do doubt your courage or your strength, come no further, for death awaits you all with nasty, big, pointy teeth." The wizard lifted his fingers to his mouth in an odd representation of fangs.

He quickly hit another button and closed his eyes, horribly embarrassed. The general and the director were not amused. "Sorry. So sorry. I was using the DVD to test out the software; I had to teach myself how to use it. Here we go."

Chuck pressed another pair of buttons, and up popped some captured video. Chuck quickly paused the video to provide the scene set-up. "The two people you see in the room are Shawn Liniman, sitting at the desk, and Jonathon Turley, the man killed the other night. Turley is coming in to give Liniman some documents."

Playing the video, Chuck narrated the action on the screen. "So, here's the first curious thing. Turley hands Liniman a stack of three pages printed from Excel. The cover page on top makes no sense, and the bottom page is blank."

General Beckman said, "What's your point, Bartowski. So the guy doesn't know how to create a spreadsheet."

"The point is that the guy would have to go out of his way to print an extra blank page in Excel, and creating a cover page is also extra work. It doesn't make any sense to go through that much trouble to casually pass some numbers to a co-worker."

Liniman tried to hand the second page back to Turley, who acted like the page was on fire, refusing to touch it. "Of course!" Sarah exclaimed.

Everyone looked at her. "Chuck, rewind this back to where Turley hands Liniman the documents."

Chuck fiddled with the controls. The video rewound, and then played. Sarah continued, "Notice that Turley never touches the middle page. He doesn't want his fingerprints on it."

Chuck stopped the video. The general looked unimpressed. "Well, it may be something, but it's not exactly a smoking gun."

He set the video in motion again with the flick of a finger. "Actually, that fits in well with something else I noticed right … here." He paused the video and turned to the officers. "Turley also claims that he forgot to unhide the columns with some key details." On the monitor, Turley stood behind Liniman, one hand on his shoulder, his other hand pointing to some of the numbers on the page. 

He unpaused the video again. "My guess is that he typed the numbers into a spreadsheet on his end, but didn't want anything to possibly trace the accounting details back to him, so he verbally explains them to Liniman…"

Sarah finished for him, watching the video"…who writes them on the page, more strongly tying the evidence to Liniman!"

The director looked more interested, but still not convinced. "That may show Turley was up to something. Liniman was likely completely in the dark; I suppose maybe he was just too dense to notice that Turley was going to hang him out to dry, but that seems like a stretch. But we still don't know what Turley is up to, or that Minh is part of this."

"That's not exactly true," said Chuck. "Let me play part of the scene again, but this time with the volume up." The video had run past Turley's exit, so Chuck stopped the playback. He pressed a button to bring up a light blue graphic playback bar on the bottom of the screen, and Chuck used the controls to jump to a point he had marked on the bar. He turned up the volume, and pressed play.

Shawn said, "Why don't you send me the soft copy of the spreadsheet? I'll get the numbers in by tomorrow."

Turley refused to take the paper. "Can't. I'm spending the rest of the day with Minh; we're doing a year-end reckoning."

Chuck paused the video, an expectant look on his face. Sarah nodded and smiled at Chuck.

The director didn't so much smile as take the frown off his face. "Nice work, Chuck. You may have something here."

General Beckman disagreed, "I'm not so sure. Turley is dead, Liniman probably knows nothing, and we don't know where Minh is. We still have painfully little to go on, even if Liniman does prove to be useful. With Turley gone, Minh's pipeline into DCI Enterprises, if it existed, would dry up. Is there nothing else?"

Chuck's expression became more determined. "Yes, there's more." Chuck moved the video to another point he had pre-marked on the graphic bar; it seemed to be a random shot of Liniman, alone after Turley's departure, writing on a piece of white computer paper. He muttered, "Now, what macro did I assign … oh, right." 

He pressed a combination of three buttons. The video panned in, closing in on the paper on the desk. Automatically, the image cleaned itself up, rotated to bring the image right-side up, pivoted to bring the view directly down onto the page, and cleaned itself up again. Casey gave a subtly impressed look as he watched.

The image on the screen was the Excel spreadsheet Turley had brought in, with the handwritten notes that Liniman had made. The notes on the left were abbreviated company names with account numbers that Liniman had recalled from memory, and the numbers on the spreadsheets looked like payment figures; the numbers totaled to roughly sixteen million dollars. Everything was as clear as if they were holding the page in front of them.

Chuck explained, "There are five separate companies wiring money to DCI Enterprises, written here on the sheet that Turley didn't want to touch. It should be interesting to discover who they are."

The general remained obdurate. "Well, without knowing what they were paying for…"

"I think I can help there, too." The general looked perturbed at Chuck's interruption, but he didn't notice. He moved a cursor to another mark on the graphic bar, and pressed play.

Turley turned around as he was about to leave, his back now to the camera. "Hey, there is one more thing you can do for Andy and me."

Shawn smiled. "Anything you need." 

"Thanks, Shawn. I've ordered a package of documents from the G4 document repository; it won't be ready until the 28th, and I'll be out that afternoon. It's classified information that your clearance doesn't handle, but I've submitted the necessary security forms so they can release the documents to you. Pick them up and lock them in your desk. I may need them this weekend."

The video stopped. There was a slight pause before the general, in a somewhat defeated tone, said, "Nice work, Chuck." 

The director ordered, "Bring in Liniman. Find out what he knows, and get your hands on those documents. We'll see if those accounts lead to anything." The general quickly signed off.

Chuck was extraordinarily pleased with himself, so much so that he never even questioned the thoughtful look Sarah was directing at the monitor.

**Scene XXVI - Van Outside Vietnamese Restaurant**

The restaurant that the team chose for their meeting with Liniman was a casual little place with neon red Oriental characters denoting its name. It was located in the middle of a row of shops, most of them closed and dark. Cars sparsely lined either side of the street, and only a few dingy old street lights provided any relief from the approaching darkness.

Chuck, Sarah and Casey crouched in the back of a black van, directly across the street from the restaurant. Sarah was wearing a flirty little top, with her hair pulled back as it was for Chuck and Sarah's first date, long hairpins and all. Chuck dressed a little nicer than usual, as if to try to impress Liniman. Casey was ready for action, wearing black from head to toe. The trio reviewed the plan for the evening, with Casey leading the discussion.

"Remember, the goal is to get Liniman to spill something. Whether we succeed or not, we take him in at the end of the evening.

We've got two ways to get him to talk about work. The first is for you, Chuck, to get him to talk about work to impress you. Be sure to ask about his boss, but also be sure not to use his boss' name or position unless he uses it first; you have no way of knowing that info at this point."

Sarah added, "The second way is for me to get him to talk about work to try to impress me. That shouldn't be difficult, given that work seems to be his whole life. If things are going well, I'll adjust my earring, and you can slip off to the rest room to 'wash your hands' for a few minutes."

Chuck grinned. "Yeah, and if I want to get him alone, I can pretend there's something wrong with my watch." He looked pointedly at Sarah.

Sarah laughed. Chuck had been teasing her about the watch running fast every chance he had.

"It's working now, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I got the owner of the spy shop to fix it for me. Of course, it's costing me a couple hours of pro bono computer work … hey, Liniman should be here in about ten minutes. Shouldn't we get in there?"

Casey responded, "Relax, Chuckles. Agent Thompson buzzed me a few minutes ago; Liniman just left his apartment and is still about fifteen minutes out." The NSA had spared another agent to tail Liniman throughout the day so Casey could catch up on some sleep and help set up the mission.

Sarah checked her own watch. "Still, it wouldn't hurt to gear up and get settled inside."

"Roger that." He handed Sarah a gold bracelet. "Mike 1". He handed Chuck a watch. "Mike 2."

Chuck slipped off his watch and handed it to Casey, replacing it with the new one. An expression of mock surprise filled his face. "Hey! The correct time, right out of the box!"

"Now if you could only learn to work your phone, you'd be all set," she threw back. Chuck was briefly worried that Sarah was still annoyed he hadn't returned her calls, but he caught her sly grin as she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist.

Casey was getting annoyed. "Knock it off or you'll have me convinced your cover is real. You're certainly triggering my gag reflex. Ear pieces." He offers ear pieces to both of them. Sarah cocked her head to the side so she could seat her ear piece; Chuck slid his into place as well.

After a quick check to ensure the mikes were working, Casey scouted the area for Liniman; he was nowhere to be seen. "OK, you're clear. Remember to grab one of the center tables so I get a good view. Good luck."

Sarah and Chuck hopped out of the van, and started to walk across the street. A sedan approached, its headlights casting long silhouettes onto the pavement behind the two. The two kicked into a jog, slipping between two parked cars onto the sidewalk. Chuck continued his trot a little longer than Sarah so he could get the door for her.

The waiter tried to put them in a booth, but the pair convinced the waiter to seat them at a table instead. They sat side-by-side, with Chuck closer to the front door. 

Across the street, Casey shoveled a chicken-and-rice dish from a takeout container into his mouth. He lounged in the driver's seat of the van, listening to the microphones on Sarah and Chuck's wrists and fiddling with some equipment in his lap. Sarah was largely obscured by Chuck's frame, but he had a clear shot of Chuck, and would have a good view of Liniman and the rest of the restaurant.

As usual, Sarah wanted one last review before the mission truly began. "So, we've got things down. We take turns trying to get this guy to admit to anything, but mostly we try to get him to use Minh's name. Once we have that, we've got him."

Chuck smiled. "Got it. But with that outfit on, I'm not liking the odds that I'm the one to get him to spill." He couldn't help noticing how good she looked; the smile she gave him in return only amplified the effect.

"Thank you, Chuck. That reminds me: I should probably get into character a little more." Sarah slid her chair closer to Chuck. She leaned over to put her head on Chuck's shoulder, carefully turning to avoid poking Chuck with her hairpins. Her expression seemed contented. 

Chuck, unable to see Sarah's face, looked confused. He had thought he might be turning the corner on his feelings for Sarah: their banter had been more fun, more relaxed lately. He had been more relaxed. But moments like this made him wonder, both about his feelings … and hers.

Casey also looked confused. He hadn't heard them say anything after "get into character a little more", and he was struggling to see exactly what was going on. However, Chuck had turned to face slightly away from Casey when Sarah leaned against him, hiding her completely from Casey's view. He turned up the volume on his earpiece and pushed it deeper into his ear, trying to pick up any indication of what was happening.

All three of them were startled by the slamming of the front door, which Liniman didn't bother to catch as he entered the restaurant. He was sorely out of place in the casual establishment, wearing a black, high-end suit with a red silk tie and black shoes polished to a high sheen. Liniman directed an expression with the faintest of apologies to the hostess before scanning the restaurant. He quickly spotted Sarah and Chuck in the mostly empty room, and moved over to them. Chuck and Sarah stood up as he approached.

"Sorry I'm late," Liniman boomed as he approached. "I got hung up at the office late; business never stops, even during the holidays." Chuck covered up a grin; they knew from the agent tailing Liniman that he had left the office at 4:15. It was now 6:30.

Chuck graciously accepted the apology as the pair stood up, Chuck extending his hand. "Not a problem. Shawn, you remember Sarah Walker?"

"Of course. Sarah, you look ravishing," putting a little too much emphasis on the word 'ravishing'. Chuck mentally revised the odds of him getting Liniman to crack downwards.

"Why, thank you. And what a terrific suit," she gushed. Chuck found himself stifling another grin: Sarah was mocking Shawn, but he would never notice.

"You like?" He made a little half-spin, pulling open the coat to show it off. "Sorry if I'm overdressed. I'm used to eating at nicer places than this." His tone made it clear that he thought he was being polite.

Chuck gave a mock laugh as they all sat down, Chuck guiding in Sarah's chair as she sat before taking his seat. "Well, you have to scale back a little on the Buy More wage. Besides, this place has the best pho in Los Angeles." The line was a calculated plant. If Liniman had met up with Minh, there was a chance that one of the meetings might have been at another Vietnamese restaurant. Liniman didn't disappoint.

"I'd be surprised if that were true. One of our Vietnamese clients swears by New Saigon, downtown."

Sarah, leaning slightly towards Liniman, responded with interest, "Really. That's supposed to be a swanky place."

Liniman leaned in as well, although a little too much. "It is. But when you represent a company like mine, you have to make a good impression."

She replied coyly, "Well, you certainly do that."

Liniman's face lit up, and he responded in a quiet, oily tone, "You're too kind." His eyes carried all kinds of implications, and a smile crept across his lips as he glanced over at Chuck.

Even knowing that Sarah was faking every step of the way, Chuck couldn't keep the scene from affecting him. If this evening demonstrated anything, it was that Chuck wasn't over Sarah. Not yet. He sighed.

Luckily, Chuck's emotions played to the pair's advantage. His obvious discomfort encouraged Liniman in a way that wouldn't have been possible otherwise; for Shawn, this was clearly as much about Chuck as it was about Sarah. Shawn flirted outrageously with Sarah, his face shining in triumph every time she responded with a throaty laugh or a casual touch on his arm. 

By the time the main course arrived, Chuck was clearly a third wheel. Chuck didn't need to wait for Sarah's cue to recognize it was time for him to leave the two alone for a few minutes. His excuse unintentionally came out differently than planned, "If you two will excuse me, I'm feeling a little ill. I'll be back in a few minutes."

The change in the line didn't escape Sarah, who stole a slightly worried look at Chuck as he left. Liniman certainly suspected nothing; his attention was elsewhere. Belatedly, he called out to Chuck, "No problem, buddy. Take your time." Chuck stiffened a bit at Liniman calling him 'buddy', but kept heading back to the bathroom.

Chuck took his earpiece out before he splashed some water on his face, shaking the excess off his hands before placing them on the sides of the sink to steady himself. He reminded himself that they were making progress with Liniman, and that things were going according to plan. He found it helped to focus on the job at hand; the focus helped to shut away some of the emotion.

After ten minutes or so, Chuck figured that Sarah had had enough time to try to crack Liniman, so he pushed his earpiece back in and came out the bathroom door. His intuition was pretty good, because he saw Sarah being escorted out of the restaurant by Liniman, his arm around her waist. She never looked back. The restaurant door slammed again, causing Chuck to start. Even though he knew it was all a ruse, Chuck stood stock-still by the bathroom door, feeling like he had been punched in the gut.

**Scene XXVII - Street**

Casey watched Sarah and Shawn exit the restaurant, with Shawn quickly assuming a position where he could put his arm back around Sarah's waist and guide her to the left.

Sarah towered over Liniman by a good couple of inches, but that wasn't slowing him down at all. His expression was smugly triumphant as he whispered into her ear. Sarah's face, not visible to Liniman while he was whispering, was all business as she cocked her head to the side to give him better access to her ear while allowing her to survey her surroundings.

The two had traveled about a block when Chuck walked listlessly out of the restaurant, letting the front door slam behind him. He turned his head to the left, sighting Sarah and Shawn ambling down the sidewalk, moving at a decent clip. As they passed under a street light, Sarah threw back her head to laugh at some comment Liniman made.

The restaurant door slammed shut again; Chuck instinctively spun around at the noise. One of the other restaurant patrons, a Vietnamese man that had been reading a newspaper at a corner table, looked at Chuck with an evil grin. He apparently had watched the entire scene, and obviously got a kick out of Chuck losing his girlfriend. 

It was the waiter who had brought the poisoned sake, although Chuck had no way of knowing that. However, the frontal view of the man's face caused Chuck to flash. 

A cowboy in full chaps sitting on a horse. 

A picture of the man in North Vietnamese army gear. 

A series of scanned pages outlining the man's military record, highlighted by three medals and a commendation. 

A security camera picture, in black-and-white, of him entering an office building. 

A video of him stabbing a man in a suit in the neck. 

A picture of three men dead in a hotel room, all with knife wounds. 

The cowboy on the horse again. 

The man apparently he was finished mocking Chuck, because he turned and followed Shawn and Sarah down the sidewalk. Given his rapid pace, it was reasonable to assume he was trying to catch up with them.

Chuck cursed himself for not watching the other restaurant patrons more carefully. Once the man was a safe distance away, he whispered excitedly into his watch, "Casey, the man who just exited the restaurant is Chien Quan, a Vietnamese ex-soldier-turned-assassin. That can't be a coincidence." 

Three blocks away, Sarah's head turned to her right; she had heard Chuck's report as well. 

Casey quickly responded, "I'm on it. Stay put." Casey hopped out of the van, and after checking for traffic crossed the street at an angle, handgun with silencer pointed at the ground.

"Well, at least I'm only waiting near the car this time," Chuck muttered. Despite Casey's order, he decided to follow at a safe distance, whispering updates to Sarah and Casey about Quan's location. In an amateurish fashion, Chuck moved quickly from lamppost to telephone pole to bus stop shelter to whatever happened to be available to hide him. His actions only made him more obvious.

Casey shadowed Quan, staying on the traffic side of the cars parked along the side of the road. Quan seemed completely unaware of Casey's presence as he closed the gap on Liniman and Sarah.

Chuck updated the team, "Sarah, Quan is now two blocks behind you. Casey, he's still unaware of you."

Quan crossed a side street. Because Casey used parked cars to shield him from Quan's view, he was forced to stop and wait until Quan was most of the way across before continuing, losing valuable ground. Casey crossed the street with a quick dash and tried to make up the lost ground using a series of five cars parked along the sidewalk to cover his crouched-over run.

Trying to hide behind a lamppost close to the corner of the side street, Chuck hoped his mad dashes from cover to cover looked somewhat professional. They didn't.

Down the street, Liniman continued whispering in Sarah's ear as they walked through a dark section of sidewalk, his arm pulling her closer. A side street teed into the main road from the left; the two turned up the street. 

As soon as the pair disappeared around the corner, Quan broke into a jog. Casey followed suit, moving over to the sidewalk. 

Taking his cue from Casey, Chuck tried to kick into a run and promptly tripped over the curb. He picked himself up and turned to see a Honda Civic skidding to a stop just in front of him, its horn blaring into Chuck's watch as he instinctively held out his hands to protect himself.

All hell broke loose.

Quan turned around at the sound of the car horn to see Casey holding his hand over his ear, trying to remove the earpiece. More importantly, Quan saw the gun in Casey's hand. He took off at a sprint for the corner. 

Casey gathered himself and went after Quan. He couldn't risk a shot; a miss would travel down the sidewalk, potentially endangering other people ahead. He held his gun pointed to the sky as he ran. 

Chuck flashed an awkwardly apologetic look at the Civic's driver before chasing after Casey, his legs churning as fast as he could make them. He had no idea what he would do if he caught up, but that didn't seem to be a problem at the moment.

Around the corner, Sarah had jerked out of Liniman's grasp and quickly snatched the ear piece out of her ear when the car horn sounded. She managed to play it off by palming the piece and moving her hands back to pull out her hair pins, and then shaking her hair loose. Looking Liniman square in the eye, she smiled. "Where were we?" 

"Well, my car is actually right there." He pointed his keys at a Porsche parked in the lot across the street, hitting the unlock button on the fob to flash the turn signals. In a painfully obvious double entendre, he took a step towards her and asked, "Do you think you can handle the ride?"

Sarah put her arms behind her back, looking slightly down at him with a coy grin. "You know what?"

He smiled bigger, until she stabbed him in both shoulders with her hair pins. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he collapsed like a load of bricks as the sedative on the tips of the pins took their effect.

With a fairly disgusted expression, she said, "I can't even handle the thought," as she slipped the pins into her blouse. She grabbed Shawn's keys from the ground and dragged him with a fireman's carry into the closest store doorway. Pulling a gun from the small of her back, she turned around, crouching down on one knee and sighting her gun along the edge of the entryway.

Quan's footsteps obviously slowed as he came around the corner, and stopped altogether. The dated outcroppings on the corner building apparently gave the assassin room to hide. Sarah whispered into her bracelet, "Casey! Ambush!"

Casey didn't hear her; even if he still wore the earpiece, he was basically deaf in that ear. However, having been in a few foot chases before, he stopped before he got to the corner, sensing trouble.

For a minute, nobody moved. All three recognized the lack of movement in the still, cool air.

With Casey stopped at the corner, Chuck pulled up half a block away, realizing he would contribute nothing by crowding him. He checked to make sure that nobody else was coming. The street was deserted behind him, and he saw nobody along the opposite sidewalk either.

Chuck decided to cross the street; hopefully he could work his way around far enough to provide some reconnaissance for Casey and Sarah. Slipping between two cars and checking for traffic, he quickly dashed across the road to take cover behind a beat-up Volkswagen. After pausing a moment, he started sliding towards a vantage point opposite the side street, moving car by car. 

Sarah decided she needed to make a move. Hopefully Quan was only aware of Casey, but the absence of her and Liniman when he turned the corner had to make him suspicious. She leaned further out of the entryway and saw nobody along the sidewalk, but it was painfully dark towards the corner. She slid out from behind her cover, staying close to the buildings. Keeping her gun pointed in front of her at shoulder level, she took step after slow and cautious step.

Casey risked a quick peek around the corner, pulling back as soon as the view registered. He recognized Sarah's shadow; there were only a couple of recessed doorways left where Chien could be hiding. Something didn't feel right.

Chuck hadn't quite made it opposite the side street when his peripheral movement spotted the shadow of somebody on a ledge directly above Casey. The figure crouched down, preparing to jump.

"Casey! Above you!" Chuck shouted without thinking.

Casey was facing the corner, so he only had one escape route: he shoulder-rolled directly into Sarah's line of sight. Chuck watched helplessly as Quan landed on the spot Casey had just vacated, his knife clanging harmlessly onto the sidewalk, throwing a few sparks.

Seeing a figure pop out of the shadows, Sarah instinctively fired a shot into the torso. The shadow collapsed; she approached him slowly, gun and eyes constantly aimed at the prone figure.

Hearing Sarah's shot, Quan took off running back towards the restaurant, turning right into the first alleyway.

Chuck came running across the street. Sarah, seeing him dash across the street, shouted, "Chuck! Stay back!"

On her command, he stopped. "Sarah, you shot Casey! Chien ran off."

Her expression became worried. She held her gun pointed towards the sky and moved forward while Chuck finished crossing the street. Casey lay on his stomach, head towards Chuck, unmoving.

Her worry quickly dissipated after noticing the bullet-hole in the back of Casey's shirt, casually saying, "Guess it was his turn." Her expression took on a hint of smugness, as if she relished putting a bullet into Casey.

Chuck was a little shocked by her cavalier attitude, even though he knew by her tone that Casey must be wearing a vest. Sure enough, Casey started gasping for breath.

His eyes opened. "Nice shot, Walker," Casey said, seeming to relish the pain a little. "Right on the heart." He stretched a little, trying to relieve the pain. "Mmm, it's been a while since I was shot."

Chuck collapsed onto the bumper of the car parked near the corner. "Well, if it's all the same to you two, maybe next time we can try to go an entire mission without one of us getting shot. Just to change things up."


	7. Holiday Plans

**Scene XXVIII - Casey's Apartment**

Sarah drove Liniman's Porsche, its comatose owner buckled into the passenger seat. This Porsche was a more modern model than hers, so she was thoroughly enjoying the experience. She looked over at the passed-out Liniman; she was also enjoying the fact that Liniman had finally shut up. Shaking her head, she turned her eyes back to the road.

Something suddenly occurred to Sarah: how had Chien followed Liniman to the restaurant without alerting Agent Thompson? Suspicious, she parallel-parked in a long spot between a pair of cars and gave the car a quick once-over. Sure enough, she found a homing device magnetically attached to the underside of the car body; the rest of the car was clean. 

She quickly attached the device to the bottom of the car parked behind her, climbed back into the Porsche and roared off, tires squealing. No telling if Chien was close behind or not, but there was no point in taking chances. She called Casey to brief him know about the GPS device, mentally plotting a longer route back to Casey's apartment as the phone rang.

Casey lounged in the passenger seat of the van, seat reclined. He shifted uncomfortably in order to pull his cell phone out of his back pocket, moving slowly to avoid aggravating the pain. After several rings, he finally put the phone to his ear. "Casey here." Noticing that ear still wasn't working too well, he switched the phone to his other ear with a wince.

"Walker here. I found a GPS device on Liniman's Porsche. I stuck it on another car."

"You know, he'll still be after Liniman. We could have used that to lure Quan to us."

"Doubtful. Since he's now aware of us, odds are good he would have just sent a sniper to clean things up."

Casey reassessed and agreed, "Roger that."

"I'm taking a longer route back to your place to make sure Quan didn't pick up my trail before I could remove the device."

"Please. You just want to take the Porsche for a spin."

Sarah laughed. "That too." She hung up and shifted into higher gear, a smile lighting up her face as the car took off.

Chuck guided the van back towards Casey's apartment, with Casey using the passenger seat mirror to watch that they weren't followed. Chuck kept waiting Casey to chew him out about the car horn, but Casey was in a strangely cheerful mood. As he told Chuck, they had achieved their objective and gotten confirmation that Minh was still after Liniman. Casey seemed to consider it a good night, all things considered. 

Chuck parked the van outside their apartment complex. Casey immediately went inside while Chuck tidied up the inside of the van, hiding anything suspicious-looking from casual view. He assessed his work and quickly went inside, making sure he didn't run into any of his friends or family in the process.

Casey was already lounging on the couch. He was developing a nice bruise on his back from the bullet impact, but that would heal within a day or two. His ear was already recovering, although it would take a bit to regain full hearing. The pain didn't really seem to bother Casey: he seemed to treat the pain like an athlete would treat muscle soreness after a long but satisfying game.

Fifteen minutes later, Sarah parked Liniman's Porsche in the spot Casey had kept reserved for the Crown Vic. She ran inside, grabbing Chuck and borrowing the Crown Vic cover to hide the Porsche. She chose not to mention any of that to Casey; there was no need to spoil his good mood.

With Chuck's help, the two quickly transported the unconscious Liniman inside. Shawn looked like he had just had a few too many, so Chuck acted like the guy was one of his old frat buddies, making sardonic remarks about his passed-out friend and cracking up Sarah the entire way. One of their neighbors saw the three of them, but clearly thought nothing of it. He apparently had seen some of the casualties from Awesome's margaritas; this wasn't the first time Chuck helped carry somebody around the apartment complex.

They dumped Liniman into the bathtub, handcuffing him to the water spout just in case. Liniman likely wasn't going to wake up for a while: a stab from one hairpin would have been enough to knock him out for a good twelve hours; the double-dose meant Liniman likely wouldn't be stirring until the next night at the earliest. It couldn't be helped; in the heat of the moment, Sarah needed to use both hairpins to ensure Liniman was rendered unconscious quickly. 

Stripping off Liniman's jacket and shirt, they taped gauze pads over the gouges in his shoulders where the hairpins had penetrated the skin. After a quick inspection, his head only had a minor bump from when he collapsed onto the sidewalk. Between the sedative and the head wound, Shawn was going to have a brutal headache when he woke.

Casey's good mood didn't prevent him from taking a strong painkiller to help dull the pain; he had trouble getting comfortable, and he kept playing with his ear, as if to somehow coax his hearing back more quickly. 

The painkiller and hearing problems meant Sarah was on tap for babysitting duty, as Chuck wasn't exactly equipped to deal with Minh's henchmen if they came calling. Even though she was reasonably confident that she hadn't been followed and a quick search of Shawn had revealed no tracking devices on his person, the team couldn't afford to take any chances.

Casey lay on the couch, not quite comfortable enough to sleep. He would doze lightly for a few minutes before waking up with a start, and would try to re-adjust himself to get comfortable. 

With Casey basically out of commission, Sarah and Chuck sat on the floor playing cards on the coffee table, their backs leaning against the couch. Sarah explained that Chuck shouldn't feel too bad about the car horn: it was an instinctive reaction to put his hands out to protect himself. The trick was not forgetting where you were so that you remembered to check for hazards while shadowing a target. 

Chuck talked about the surveillance software, and what it could and couldn't do. Sarah couldn't help but tease him about the Monty Python movie. Chuck offered to put it on, and made a comment about how the General and certain agents could really afford to find a sense of humor one of these days.

Sarah talked about some of the ridiculous blandishments Liniman had whispered in her ear. Sarah wasn't mean; she was just stunned that anyone could think those types of comments would actually work.

Chuck was dumbfounded to learn that Sarah didn't know how to play gin rummy, so he taught her. He handed her defeat after defeat. Sarah's competitive side started to emerge, culminating with Sarah throwing her cards at Chuck after he won the eighth consecutive game in a row.

The talk of the missions faded and the conversation shifted to nothing in particular. Casey's starts were becoming less and less frequent, so the two tried to keep their voices low.

Eventually, Chuck checked his watch and noticed it was 1:45 am; he had to be up in a little over five hours so he could open up the Buy More. Chuck wasn't ready to let the evening end, but reluctantly, he told Sarah he needed to leave. Sarah covered up her disappointment fairly well, so well that Chuck didn't notice.

The two paused at Casey's door, Sarah leaning against the jam for support and looking up at him, a slightly shy smile on her face. Words were difficult for Chuck to come by; his breath seemed to catch in his throat. He could only return her smile with a shy smile of his own. 

The scene seemed so normal. The ludicrousness of the other world dropped away; for a long, wonderful moment, they were just a man and a woman who spent a quiet evening playing cards and talking.

Inside, Casey groaned and shifted on the couch, breaking the spell. Chuck lost where his feelings had been taking him. All Chuck could think to do was wish her good night, with a melancholy little smile. Sarah did the same; she gently closed the door.

Chuck stood staring at the door for over a minute. The scene at the door had been magical. He corrected himself; the last couple of hours had been magical.

He couldn't help but wonder: could moments like that happen if only one person had feelings for the other?

**Scene XXIX - Casey's Apartment**

Saturday passed uneventfully. Chuck worked his normal shift, with the only real challenge being finding somebody to cover for Casey. He ended up spending a fair bit of his day as a salesperson. The day passed slowly.

Casey and Liniman slept all morning, which left Sarah playing a version of gin rummy solitaire she invented; her only interruption came when she took some time to call in a mission report. 

After Casey woke up, she stepped out to grab some take-out for the three of them. However, Liniman remained unconscious all afternoon. Sarah finally packed it in around 4:00; she was dead exhausted from her all-nighter, and Casey was sufficiently recovered to handle things.

Chuck tried to call Sarah after work, but her phone went straight to voice mail. He then called Casey, who told him Sarah would likely be sleeping all night, and that Liniman was still unconscious. With no distractions, Chuck had a nice, quiet dinner with Ellie and Devon and spent a rare private evening alone in his room. At least, a truly private evening was rare enough these days.

He had to admit, as much as he wanted to see Sarah and figure out some things, it was nice to hang out by himself for a bit. Between the excitement, emotion, and lack of sleep the previous night, he found himself dozing off by 8:30.

Liniman didn't awaken until after Chuck fell asleep, and was too groggy and weak to do much the first couple of hours. After he became coherent, Casey spent a fair part of the night interrogating his subject, but had surprisingly little success. Liniman wasn't talking.

On Sunday morning, Casey let Sarah and Chuck into his apartment. They expected to see Liniman in the living room; however, the room was empty. "Where is he?" Chuck asked.

Casey nodded towards the hallway. "I moved him back in the bedroom. Couldn't risk having him spotted through the door, and it's further from the courtyard in case he decides to yell again."

The three walked back towards Casey's bedroom; the door was shut. Casey cracked the door. Liniman was handcuffed to the bed frame, his head slumped down as if sleeping. His mouth was gagged, and he was stripped down to his T-shirt, boxers and dress socks. A chair sat facing him.

Sarah and Chuck worked hard to suppress smirks. Sarah turned to Chuck. "This looks familiar to me for some reason. But I can't put my finger on it. You?"

"Handcuffed to a bed? Left all alone in his boxers? I know I've seen this somewhere before."

Casey turned towards them with a vicious look. "One more Carina joke, and I use you to show Casanova over there exactly what I'll do to him if he doesn't talk."

Chuck retorted, "Because your threats have worked wonders so far."

"This guy doesn't have enough imagination to be scared."

Sarah thought for a moment. "He's going to be pretty ticked off at me, too. Why don't we let Chuck take a try?"

Casey's tone mocked Chuck's, "Because his interrogation of Larkin went so well."

"Chuck knows the guy. Maybe he can get him to let his shield down."

"Bad cop – annoying cop." Casey shrugged. "Sure, why not." Facing Chuck, he added, "God knows he needs the practice."

Sarah pulled Chuck aside. In a reassuring tone, she said, "Look; you can do this. Just go in there and try to figure out where his head is. If you can convince him you understand what he's going through, he'll be willing to work with you."

Chuck sighed. He really had no desire to go in there and try to empathize with Shawn, but every job had parts that people didn't like.

He asked her, "You sure about this?"

Sarah nodded encouragingly. Chuck sighed again. "All right," he acceded.

Sarah and Casey moved back so Liniman wouldn't see them when Chuck entered. Chuck slipped through the door, leaving it cracked so Casey and Sarah could watch. 

Liniman didn't move until Chuck sat in a chair by the bed; he took one look at Chuck before looking away. Chuck arranged himself so he leaned towards Liniman, resting his elbows on his knees. He reached over and pulled the gag from Shawn's mouth. Shawn stretched his jaw and tried to clear some of the fabric residue in his mouth with his tongue. Apparently Casey had finally convinced him it was a bad idea to call for help.

Chuck didn't say anything for a moment. He gave an ironic little laugh. "Never thought we'd end up here when we were back in high school. You?"

Liniman stared him down. "Don't think I'm going to buy any type of buddy-buddy routine out of you."

Looking Shawn directly in the eye, Chuck said, "I don't expect you to. We were never friends; now probably isn't the time to start."

Outside, Casey whispered. "Once again, off to a terrific start." Sarah shushed him.

"I'm not going to help you, 'Agent Bartowski', is it?" 

"I'm not an agent. Ask Casey; he'll happily tell you."

Shawn's face was a mask.

"Do I really strike you as the agent type?

A disdainful expression provided the answer.

Chuck paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He needed some way to connect with Shawn, some type of common ground to connect the two. Suddenly, an idea clicked into place. "We're both here for the same reason. I was just going about living my normal life, and one day, I found out some things. Suddenly, everything changed. Sound familiar?"

Liniman hesitated a moment, before looking away and obviously lying, "No."

"I've been there. I've been through the shock of finding out that things weren't what they seemed. I've been through the uncertainty of finding out that the guy I thought was my best friend in the world screwed me over. You do know that Turley was setting you up for a fall, right?"

Liniman angrily looked at Chuck, defending his mentor. "Jonathon wouldn't do that to me."

"C'mon, Shawn, you're smarter than that. Why would Turley print three pages to bring you one sheet of data, unless he didn't want his fingerprints on the page? Why would he omit the details from the spreadsheet, unless he wanted the details on the page in your handwriting? Why did he so often hand you things without any kind of audit trail? Why would he keep you in the dark about all of this? Those are just the things I know. I'm betting there are other things that don't add up as well."

Liniman's protest died on his lips. He was obviously running previous dealings with Turley through his mind, running the past couple of years through his mind. Chuck let him think things through until his eyes widened with the realization that Chuck was telling him the truth. Shawn looked down, his anguished eyes staring blankly down at the bed.

"I've been there, Shawn. My best friend in the world framed me for stealing a key to a test and got me kicked out of Stanford. Years later, I found out that friend lived in an entirely different world from me, one full of spies and betrayal and danger. That was Turley's world, too. That's why Turley is dead."

Shawn's eyes were suddenly alert and focused on Chuck. "You mean…"

"Andon Minh had him killed to cover his trail. And Minh plans to do the same to you, too."

Shawn was processing everything, but very slowly. "I don't get it. Why would he be after me? I didn't know anything. Like you said, Turley kept me in the dark."

Chuck had put together a few things while working at Buy More the previous day. He was assuming a couple of things, but it all made too much sense. 

"Turley was selling classified documents to Minh. In order to get more access to information, Minh would send money to the company under falsified accounts while sending kickbacks to Turley. Turley's operations looked successful, so he got promoted, which gave him more access to more classified information. Which meant more money. Which meant more promotions.

"You helped to hide Turley's dealings, which means you can find them again if you want. Minh knows you can be just as dangerous to him as Turley was."

The explanation clearly stunned Shawn.

Chuck wore a rueful smile. "I recognize that look. I wore it for about a month straight. Still get it pretty often, actually."

Liniman didn't respond, staring off into space, trying to reconcile everything he had just learned.

"The rules have changed, Shawn. Whether you like me or not doesn't matter. What matters is that Minh is trying to kill you, and the only way to stop that from happening is to help us catch him."

Shawn looked back at Chuck. He was ready to help them.

**Scene XXX - DCI Enterprises**

Casey, Sarah and Shawn headed out to the DCI Enterprises campus Sunday afternoon in the Suburban. After agreeing to help, Liniman told them as much of what he could remember about hiding Minh's dealings with his company, which was a surprising amount. Shawn was clearly good at his job.

Shawn's office held two key things the team needed: hard evidence of how DCI Enterprises accounted for some of the transactions, and more importantly, the cache of classified documents Liniman had stashed in his desk on Friday. Casey pulled the car into a slot towards the front of the parking lot. He pretended to look through some papers, giving Sarah time to climb into the back and activate the surveillance equipment again. 

Liniman's office was empty. She quickly compared the image on the screen to a screen shot that Chuck had printed from Friday's surveillance footage. There was no sign that anything had been disturbed.

"Everything looks clear," she reported, a bit uneasily. "Shawn, any thoughts?"

Sarah turned the monitor around so Liniman could see. "Yep, they've been there." Even that innocent comment somehow seemed obnoxious.

"How can you tell?" She looked unconvinced. 

"See the award on the hutch there, the one on the bottom shelf? It's been turned at an angle. You can't see the plaque like that."

Sarah looked at the picture again. Sure enough, the award was askew. "You sure you didn't move it before you left?"

A bullet pierced the window next to Shawn, who involuntarily let out a high-pitched cry. Sarah tackled him. "Get down, and stay down!"

"And I thought Chuck screamed like a girl," Casey muttered. He threw the Suburban into reverse to pull out of the parking spot. A bullet shattered the back window and pierced Casey's coffee cup. His scowl deepened; he slammed the car into drive and drove off as more shots rang out.

**Scene XXXI - Buy More**

Chuck sat at the Nerd Herd desk. The store was mostly empty today; what few customers were there spent their time digging through the bargain bins or buying accessories for their new iPods. There wasn't much call for his services.

Actually, Chuck was glad he had the Buy More as an excuse today. Despite his success in persuading Liniman to help them, heading out to the DCI campus and watching Shawn get to go along while he waited in the car … he wasn't devoid of a competitive spirit, and that would have struck a bit close to home.

Chuck's cell phone rang; a picture from Sarah on Christmas day came up on the monitor. Were they really done already? "Hey; that was quick."

Sarah's voice was tense. "Yeah, Minh's thugs were waiting for us."

"Is everyone OK?"

"Yes, but they've accessed Shawn's office. They'll have the classified documents and the accounting records."

"That's not good."

"No, it's not. I'll be there in five minutes. Keep your eyes peeled, just in case." She hung up.

Chuck took a slow survey of the store, turning as he scanned. There was nothing suspicious.

The Nerd Herd phone rang behind him, startling him. He took a breath and picked up. "Nerd Herd, Chuck Bartowski speaking. How can I help you?"

"If I told you I had a computer to fix at DCI Enterprises, could you be persuaded to stop by?"

Chuck's heart froze. "Tha-at would depend who is calling."

"It is Andon Minh, Mr. Bartowski. Our meeting is overdue."

Just then Morgan walked up; Chuck realized he had no convenient way to get rid of him. The timing was not good.

"And what's the nature of your emergency, sir?"

"Ah, covers can be so tedious, do you not agree? Although my man was most impressed with your acting job the other night; he was fully convinced you had lost the love of your life over appetizers."

Morgan was obviously trying to get his attention. Chuck put on an annoyed expression and held up a finger to hold him off.

"Well, I'm glad he was satisfied. Can I ask who referred you to the Nerd Herd?"

"Clever. My employee overheard you talking of 'the Buy More wage'. The rest was rather easy to put together."

Morgan was getting antsy. Chuck shot him an angry look while keeping his voice level.

"And how can we be of service today?"

"I will make this brief: I have need of Mr. Liniman. I know you, and Agent John Casey, and Agent Sarah Walker have him. 

"You, no doubt, have an interest in the bundle of documents Mr. Turley compiled before his untimely demise. Bring Mr. Liniman to the DCI Enterprises campus tomorrow evening at 6 pm, outside Building 5E. Make sure all four of you, and only the four of you, are there. This is a non-negotiable, one-time offer. If you do not show up, those documents will be sold to the highest bidder by next Friday.

"If you would, please say something in your cover persona to confirm."

Chuck fought to keep any emotion from creeping into his voice. "There's nothing I would rather do on New Year's Eve, sir. I will be there promptly at 6 pm."

"Nicely done. I look forward to meeting you." Minh hung up. Chuck slowly put the phone down.

Morgan gave Chuck a stunned look. "Dude, you have to be kidding me. You're working New Year's Eve?"

"I'm on call. So, yes."

"That bites."

Chuck shook his head as he looked down despondently. "You have no idea."

Just then Sarah walked up. She was dressed in a casual black outfit and matching black pants, a fairly standard choice for her when she wasn't sure if she would be called into action.

Morgan shifted to face her, leaning against the counter. "Did you know your boyfriend is working tomorrow night?"

Sarah's face went from surprised to irritated in short order. "Oh, really?" She turned from Morgan to Chuck. "Can I have a word with you in private?" she asked rather harshly. She took his hand and dragged him towards the home theater room. Chuck wondered if he was about to get chewed out.

Lester and Jeff walked up to Morgan. Lester commented, "Uh oh. Trouble in paradise?"

"Chuck just got a service call tomorrow night, and Sarah is not happy." Morgan emphasized the 'not' with his arms.

Lester grinned. "Well, maybe they'll break up again, and I can help Sarah ring in the New Year." He straightened his tie in what he obviously thought was a suave manner.

Morgan turned to Lester. "Yeah, how did that work out for you the last time they broke up?"

Lester's face went flat. "I gotta go." He walked away at a fast pace.

Jeff and Morgan looked awkwardly uncertain of what to do with Lester gone. Morgan leaned against the counter, facing away from Jeff, while Jeff stood facing Morgan. Jeff broke the silence, "So, I've got a date tomorrow."

Morgan shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"Jeff, it's not a date if you're paying her."

"Yes, it is. It's anything I want it to be … if you know what I mean. I'll be giving her the Auld Lang Syne." His hand movements were fairly graphic.

Morgan gave Jeff a disgusted look. Jeff's cockiness faded to nervousness; he took the hint and walked away.

**Scene XXXII - Home Theatre Room**

Chuck and Sarah walked into the home theater room. A pimply-faced Buy More drone was lounging on the couch, eating popcorn and watching _Star Trek: Voyager_. Without preamble, Sarah gave him a fierce look and commanded, "Out." The green-shirt took one look at Sarah, grabbed his popcorn and scurried away.

Sarah walked over and shut the door and the curtains.

Chuck stared uncertainly at her. "You're not really mad at me, are you?"

Sarah said reassuringly, "Of course not. But if you're working tomorrow night, I'm betting I am, too, and I'll need an excuse not to be waiting for you at Ellie's party. What happened?"

"Minh called me. He wants the four of us on the DCI campus tomorrow night at 6 pm. He wants to swap the packet of confidential documents for Liniman."

"What's the meeting point?"

"The entrance to building 5E, whatever that is."

"Anything else?"

"If we don't show, he's gone and the documents are as good as sold. And he specifically said the four of us, and only the four of us."

"I'm guessing he didn't put any limits on the number of men he was bringing. OK, I'll go phone this in from Casey's; he's there with Liniman. We've got some serious planning to do. Come by after work."

Chuck added, "Hey, if at all possible, we need to be at my sister's at midnight. She'll kill me if I'm not there to sing 'Auld Lang Syne' and share a midnight hug."

She said, "We'll find a way." He smiled his thanks to her.

With an answering smile, she started to walk out; Chuck stopped her. "Wait. Aren't you supposed to be ticked off at me?"

"Oh, good call." She stared off into space, and her expression gradually grew angrier. When she felt ready, she furiously threw open the door and stiffly stormed out, a livid expression on her face. Even though he knew she wasn't really angry, Chuck shuddered a bit. He never wanted to be on the business end of that.

Morgan watched Sarah exit, and turned back to see Chuck leave the theater room, staring after her. "Man, that room is like the kiss of death for Chuck and Sarah."

**Scene XXXIII - Outside Buy More**

When Sarah got outside the store, her 'anger' melted away and was replaced by an intensely focused expression. As she crossed the parking lot, she thought about what they needed to consider in order to plan for tomorrow night. They were lucky Minh didn't want to meet that night; there was no way they would have been ready. 

Sarah was climbing into her car when her phone rang; it was Director Graham. Sarah, with a bit of a sense of humor, had programmed a picture of daisies to come up when he called. She closed the car door and answered.

"Yes, Director?"

The director's gravelly voice came through clearly. "Walker, can you talk?"

"Yes, sir. I'm alone in my car."

Director Graham picked his words carefully. "I have some critical information that I need to pass along to you."

Sarah was surprised at his circumspect words; normally Graham was right to the point. "What is it?"

"The beta version of the Intersect was tested a couple of weeks ago. We need to start preparing for what needs to happen when it comes online."

Sarah's face became ashen as she listened to the Director's update and instructions, staring blankly at the dashboard. The briefing took a full five minutes, with the director doing all of the talking. "Yes, sir. I understand." The line went dead; she set the phone down, but other than that she remained perfectly still. This had not been a good day.

**Scene XXXIV - Casey's apartment**

Casey and Sarah sat in the living room of Casey's apartment, messing with various gear for the next night's mission. Chuck entered without knocking; Casey gave him a dirty look, while Sarah gave him a quick smile as she headed back to grab something from the hall closet.

Chuck crossed the room and plopped into the chair next to Casey. Casey was pulling some equipment out of a black bag, arranging the items on the floor in front of him. Chuck idly watched him for a second, his expression growing more confused as he sat there and considered. He leaned forward to ask a question.

"Casey, there's one thing I don't understand."

"Just one thing?"

Chuck let the comment slide. "What does Minh have to gain from our meeting tomorrow?"

Casey shrugged. "He gets Liniman. Probably wants to kill him."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

"Not really. When I go fishing, I don't mind using a worm for bait."

Chuck collapsed back in the chair. He wasn't particularly happy about Casey's uncaring attitude towards Shawn's fate, but that wasn't what puzzled him at the moment. He tried another tack.

"Why is it worth Minh's while to risk capture to acquire Liniman?"

Casey looked annoyed that Chuck was still asking questions on the subject, but gradually his expression turned more thoughtful. "It isn't. Minh has to know that Shawn may have already told us what he knows." Casey looked at Chuck. "He wants something else."

"And on the same note, he has to know that the documents don't concern us. He probably has copied them and shipped them off already."

Casey looked upset with himself. "He's using himself as bait. He expects us to come after him."

Chuck nodded, relieved that he wasn't off base with his thinking.

Casey stood up. "He's picked the turf, so he's minimizing the risk. Still, what's the payoff?"

Sarah had come back into the room, listening to their conversation with interest. She laid a pair of handguns on the coffee table. "Revenge for blowing up his operations?" She plopped down onto the couch.

"Maybe. Seems like a bit of a stretch. Besides, he obviously knows where to find Chuck. He could have just hunted us down." Casey walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. 

The three thought for a second, giving time for Casey to make his way back into the sitting area. He collapsed into his leather chair. Sarah said, "OK, so he wants the four of us to come to him, alive. Why?"

Casey suggested, "Professional interest? Curiosity?" Even Casey looked like he didn't believe that.

Chuck quipped, "What, like the criminal mastermind inviting James Bond to dinner before he drops him into the shark tank?"

Again the group fell silent. They had hit another wall.

Sarah suggested, "Let's go through it one more time, from the beginning, putting ourselves in Minh's shoes. Minh is in town meeting with Turley. Suddenly he has him killed. Why?"

Silence permeated the room.

Chuck volunteered, "Coincidence? He was planning to kill him any way?"

Sarah shook her head. "Maybe, but that's a pretty big coincidence. Let's rule that out for a minute." She set her elbow on the armrest and rested her head on her hand.

More silence.

Casey's face became more intense as an idea occurred to him. "Because he found out we were monitoring DCI Enterprises? Minh is about secrecy and covering his tracks. We've tried to nail the guy several times, but come up with absolutely nothing. The guy is a ghost. He must know how to sense danger, and avoid it."

Sarah leaned forward. "That's not bad. So, we start monitoring Liniman, and Minh finds out about it. He could have done that easily enough by sweeping the parking lot. Maybe that's part of what he does when he visits his sources – verifies that they are still in the clear."

With Sarah and Casey making progress, Chuck sat back in his chair, not wanting to interrupt. Casey continued, "Assume that for the time being. So, Minh has Turley killed. He either already knows about Shawn or finds out from Turley before he's killed, and tries to take him out, too."

"But we're already there. So Minh has to be wondering: how did we know about Liniman? Why were we focused on Liniman, and not Turley?"

Chuck interrupted, "Would he know we were focused on Liniman?"

Sarah and Casey frowned for a moment before Sarah figured it out. "Yes, we never did get the bugs out of Shawn's office, and there are none in Turley's office."

Casey agreed, "That makes sense. If he could find the receiver in the parking lot, he certainly could find the transmitters in the office."

"So the question remains for Minh: how were we focused on Liniman, and not Turley?"

"That type of question must drive an information broker nuts, especially one as concerned with covering his tracks."

Chuck had another thought. "What about Quan?"

Sarah looked completely confused. "What about him?"

Chuck stood up, pacing as he talked, trying to put his thoughts together. "We ID'd him immediately. But there are no records on the guy in the CIA, FBI, or NSA systems that would lead us to him; only the Intersect put that together." General Beckman had confirmed that in the morning's meeting to report Liniman's cooperation. "If Minh expected his guy to be off the radar, maybe Minh is wondering how we spotted his guy so quickly. He certainly didn't do anything to attract suspicion when he left the restaurant, yet Casey was tailing him immediately, gun in hand."

Sarah looked puzzled. "But would he know that there are no records on the guy?"

Casey said, "He's an information broker. Maybe he's got contacts that feed him information from our systems."

Chuck suggested, "If that's the case, we might be able to smoke out the sources. See if anyone in the various agencies pulled query lists recently. Do you guys audit the searches on your systems?"

Sarah nodded. "We can check if anyone searched on Minh, Quan, Turley or Liniman in the past week or so."

Chuck snapped his fingers, and pointed at Casey. "Or 'Casey'. Minh knew his full name."

Casey looked confused, "So what?"

"On the phone, Minh identified each one of us by our full names. He found me using 'Chuck' and 'Buy More', both picked up from the dinner with Shawn. It was easy enough to track down my last name." He pointed at Sarah. "I introduced Sarah to Shawn at the restaurant, using her full name. But all he had on you, Casey, was your last name. I shouted your last name when I saw Quan leaping from the ledge, but I never used your first name."

The three looked at each other. Sarah said what they were all thinking, "He's got a mole."

Casey looked at Sarah, "Or moles."

"We need to check on this immediately."

Chuck asked, "How long would that take?"

Sarah said, "I'm betting the agencies can get it done tonight."

Casey still looked concerned. "Well, that's part of the puzzle, and a big one. But the question remains: what does Minh hope to gain by meeting us?"

The conversation skidded to a stop. Chuck sat down, stumped. Casey and Sarah leaned back, lost in thought. Several minutes passed.

Sarah's face slowly lit up with a horrified realization. "He's figured out that the Intersect exists."

Chills shot up and down Chuck's spine. Casey squinted. "What?"

"OK, not the Intersect per se, but he's figured out there's another system out there."

The other two sat in stunned silence. Chuck tried to form a question, "How…?"

"He's probably suspicious about why we were tracking Liniman. He's probably suspicious about how we ID'd Quan. He looked up your name, Casey, so he has access to at least some of the systems. 

"If Minh has sources with access to each agency's computer system, he can verify that Quan and Liniman aren't in any system. What's the logical conclusion?"

Casey grimaced. "That there's another system somewhere."

Sarah's face grew pale. "One other thing. He won't be able to find anything on Chuck in any of the systems, either. Everything about him has been kept under the radar. Guess who Minh might believe is the link to the other computer system?"

Chuck looked at the two agents helplessly.


	8. Of Intrigue and Ice Cream Trucks

**Scene XXXV - DCI Enterprises**

Three black Suburbans drove onto the DCI Enterprises research campus late Monday evening. The gate was up, with the guards asleep. A quick inspection revealed their sleep was assisted courtesy of tranquilizer darts. 

The team was prepared to have Shawn sign them through, but apparently Minh had already made the necessary arrangements. They could only assume the other guards on the campus were similarly neutralized.

The three trucks took different routes to the appointed meeting place. Despite their strong suspicions that Minh had other plans for them, the possibility that he just wanted Shawn eliminated couldn't be ruled out. Without knowing which truck Shawn was in, there was no way for Minh to make a move until they arrived at the meeting point. Shawn could be in any, or none, of the trucks.

Chuck's ear piece crackled with the sound of Casey's voice. "Chuck! Turn off the damn iPod. Radio silence from now on." 

With a guilty start, he instantly complied, shutting off 'Mad World' by Michael Andrews. "Sorry," he shot back. Chuck had forgotten everyone else could hear the music through the mike on his collar. He had somewhat humorlessly put together an "If I Should Die…" play list the previous night; apparently, in real life, death-defying missions didn't come with a soundtrack.

His Suburban slowly winded down the central route, his clammy hands guiding the vehicle through the complex. DCI Enterprises had some 120 acres dedicated to research and development, and certain parts of the campus were like a maze. Sarah and Casey had much longer routes to travel, so Chuck proceeded at a deliberately slow pace.

The designated meeting point with Minh was at the heart of the facility. So far, the campus looked deserted.

Casey's voice fed into his ear wick. "Chuck, any signs of life?"

"No, nothing."

Sarah's voice came through, not needing Casey's prompting. "Nothing on my side, either. If Minh has people watching, they're well-concealed."

"Roger that."

Up ahead, the network of buildings ended, opening up into a wider space. Chuck slowed to a stop about fifty feet before the buildings ended. "I've reached the first point."

Casey was first to answer. "I'm about thirty seconds out."

"Likewise," came Sarah's terse response.

At the center of the campus was a diamond-shaped region designated 'Area 5' by its owners, with numbers one through four assigned to sections towards the edges of the complex. Except for a pair of warehouses, a small control tower and a large airplane hangar, Area 5 was mostly just a network of roads and mixed terrain, including a large firing range and a pair of runways. Building 5E turned out to be a good-sized airplane hangar.

"In position," reported Sarah.

A few seconds later, Casey affirmed, "In position. Begin your runs on my mark, and watch your speeds. 3 … 2 … 1 … mark."

At Casey's signal, Chuck pushed down gently on the accelerator, taking the Suburban to twenty miles-per-hour. As he exited into the open space, he saw the other two Suburbans, about 50 feet in front of him, but 100 yards off to either side on separate roads. The three vehicles kept their formation as they crawled towards the hangar, about a half mile ahead.

The two airplane runways intersected in front of Chuck, splitting off at 45-degree angles away from him in both directions. Because of their staggered formation, Chuck hit the runway before Sarah and Casey. He stopped and scanned the area for anything suspicious, allowing the other two to reach the edge of the runway intersecting each of their respective roads. The other two vehicles slowed to a stop.

Casey's voice broke the silence. "Anything suspicious?"

"Nothing," said Sarah.

Chuck commented, "This place is a ghost town."

Casey's snicker came through clearly. "Doubtful. Begin your next run on my mark. 3 … 2 … 1 … mark."

Chuck continued straight towards the hangar at the same speed, taking a moment to wipe each hand on a pant leg as he drove. His road aimed directly for the center of the hangar door.

Sarah and Casey broke off down their respective runways at higher speeds. After a couple hundred feet, the two turned off onto the tarmac laid down for planes returning to the hangar. 

The three trucks closed in on the building from three different angles. Up ahead, they could see the hangar doors were cracked open about five feet. A solitary figure stood just in front of the opening in the doors. No vehicles or other people were visible. 

Chuck's mouth was a desert. He took a drink of water from a cup in the holder; it only scratched the itch for a moment.

"Slow your approach." Chuck took the command as a reproach until he realized it was directed at Sarah as well. The three eased off their speeds as they entered the tarmac in front of the hangar, coming in from three angles. Casey and Sarah both made a quick swing wide of the building to ensure nobody lay in wait along the sides, while Chuck crawled straight towards the hangar. 

Closing in from about fifty yards away, Chuck could start to make out more details about the figure. He stood about three feet in front of the gap in the airport doors, arms behind his back and a briefcase at his feet. He wore a dark suit with a dark tie, and stood with his legs slightly spread. In another situation, he might have just stepped out of the hangar for a breath of fresh air.

When Chuck was close enough to make out the face of the figure, he instantly recognized him as Minh from his original flash. He felt a shock of recognition, but apparently no additional flashes were forthcoming. That was unfortunate given the way the team expected things to play out: every piece of information could become a bargaining chip.

Sarah and Casey finished their checks and angled their cars back towards the figure. The three vehicles closed in, each stopping about twenty yards away from Minh, creating a perimeter around him. Chuck shifted the car into park, and turned off the engine. He studied Minh a little more closely, as if hoping to discover something else. Minh looked calm and relaxed; he looked for all the world as if he was just waiting for old friends to arrive.

Chuck's ear wick crackled to life as Casey spoke. "Let's do this," was all he said.

Chuck sighed. He should be home helping Ellie prepare for her party. Instead, he was about to go after an international criminal that held most of the cards. He climbed out of the Suburban, reminding himself not to lock the car behind him. 

The two agents walked towards a point about ten feet in front of Chuck, warily keeping an eye on Minh and the surroundings. The three were dressed nearly identically: black jackets over black shirts, black pants, and black shoes. 

Casey looked menacing and intense in his outfit. Sarah looked sexy and confident in hers. Chuck looked tall in his. Tall and nervous.

The three stood about five feet apart facing Minh, hands in their deep jacket pockets. Minh seemed content to let the three position themselves however they wanted to before speaking. 

The wind was coming up as the light faded over the horizon. Chuck shivered; whenever he watched spy flicks, he never thought about the cold. He wondered how they handled it. 

He looked over at Casey, his face set in a stony glare, his hair blowing in the wind.

He looked over at Sarah, beautiful and intense, wisps of her hair floating on the breeze.

He looked back at Minh, relaxed and confident, casually eyed the three agents. 

Chuck frowned. Something wasn't right. 

It came to him. He whispered into his mike, "Either Minh uses a ton of product, or there's something not right here." He had noticed that Minh's hair hardly moved.

Casey's eyes narrowed. "Nice shield," he called out sardonically to Minh. "It seems almost like you don't trust us."

Minh's voice sounded strangely hollow. "You have good eyes, Agent Casey. DCI Enterprises has some fun toys in this hangar. But you'll forgive me for taking a few precautions; it is one against three."

Sarah adopted a disparaging look. "Don't insult us. Why don't you ask Chien Quan to join us; I'm sure he's around here somewhere."

"So, you know his name. Intriguing." He called out a command in Vietnamese, and Quan stepped out of the hangar, taking a position flanking Minh. Similar to the trio, Quan was dressed in form-fitting black from head to toe. The way Quan moved suggested the shield extended around Minh's sides most of the way back to the hangar, but did not extend far enough to protect Quan where he stood.

"So, where are the others?" Casey asked Minh.

"As a professional courtesy, I will inform you that several of my associates are nearby. But I notice a member of your party is missing as well? Where is Mr. Liniman? It seems difficult for us to do business if he is not present."

Sarah responded, "Like you, we took a few precautions of our own. We aren't going to put Liniman in harm's way until we know where we stand."

Minh nodded. He seemed to take a moment to assess her. Then he threw a curve ball. "Mr. Bartowski, you seem quiet." Chuck didn't have a frame of reference for dealing with criminal masterminds; nothing really compared. The best he had was the memory of his high school English teacher from senior year calling on him to answer a question about a book he hadn't yet read. That had only felt life-or-death. This truly was.

The pause was drawing out, but Chuck came up with an answer. In what he hoped was a steady voice, he replied, "I'm a man of few words. Much like Mr. Quan."

"Well, Mr. Quan understands English far better than he speaks it. But he does want me to convey again how impressed he was with your performance at the restaurant the other night." At the comment, Mr. Quan nodded towards Chuck with a small smile of appreciation. "He was fully convinced that you thought you were losing your girlfriend. And Mr. Quan is not easily fooled."

At those comments, both Sarah and Casey examined Chuck out of the corner of their eyes with worried expressions. The situation was growing entirely too complicated, and quickly. Chuck decided the best course was to speak as little as possible. "He's too kind."

Minh's face was a mask. He looked as though he wanted to continue with Chuck a bit more, but Casey interceded. "Enough chit-chat. Do you have the documents?"

Minh looked slightly perturbed at the change in subjects, but acceded, "I do. But there's still the matter of Mr. Liniman."

Sarah replied, "Liniman is nearby. We need him to verify that the package of documents you are returning is complete."

The mercury lights on the front of the hangar flickered on in response to the growing darkness. Minh gave a slight little laugh. "Now it is I who should be insulted, Ms. Walker. Am I supposed to believe that Mr. Liniman agreed to help identify documents just to be handed to me as part of a deal?"

Casey shrugged, "I can be very persuasive."

"So can Mr. Quan, but I doubt very much he could accomplish that same feat."

Sarah looked puzzled. "So what do you suggest?"

"I suggest we dispense with the games. You don't care about a bundle of documents that have already been shipped out. Why don't you tell me why you are really here."

Casey pulled a handgun from each pocket; Sarah did the same an instant later. Both leveled their weapons at the only target they had; Chien Quan slowly raised his hands. Chuck kept his hands in his pockets.

Casey asked, "No, why don't you tell us why we shouldn't take care of Quan right now."

Minh barked a command in Vietnamese. A shot rang out from the darkness, the bullet skipping off the ground at Chuck's feet. "A counter-offer: tell me why I should not shoot Mr. Bartowski to loosen your tongues."

On cue, Chuck pulled a dead man's stick out of his pocket, the lights along the handle making it obvious it was active. His face was still pale from the near miss with the gun shot; however, the agents had warned him that might happen, so he managed to keep up a brave front.

Casey smiled, keeping his guns leveled at Quan. "OK, try this. You shoot Chuck, and all three trucks explode, killing all five of us. I'm afraid your shield won't help you there. Now, please tell us again why we shouldn't shoot Quan?" Quan's face grew a little uncertain.

Minh smiled. "You may want to reconsider. If you shoot Mr. Quan, I am afraid I would have no choice but to take out you, Agent Casey, and Agent Walker as well. Then only myself and Mr. Bartowski would remain."

Casey sneered, "At which point he drops the stick."

Minh was skeptical. "Really? You would trade the lives of three agents to take out one defanged information smuggler and his guard?"

Casey smiled back. "Orders." 

Sarah appeared unphased. 

Chuck was focused on holding the handle on the stick tightly. Letting go of the plunger wouldn't be like letting go of a FedEx package accidentally.

Minh looked less sure of himself. He frowned for a moment, as if thinking through everything that had happened. He somehow reminded Chuck of a card player who wasn't sure whether he should play a key card or not. Suddenly, Minh's face grew calmer.

He said two words, and two words only: "Go ahead." 

A chill ran through Chuck. He tightened his grip around the handle, wondering what in the world he should do now.

**Scene XXXVI - DCI Enterprises**

Andon Minh stood calmly in front of the airplane hangar, seemingly unconcerned that Chuck held his fate, quite literally, in the palm of his hand.

"Go ahead, Mr. Bartowski. If you intend to set off your explosives, now is the time. Otherwise, I suggest you turn off the device, and have your partner agents put down their guns."

Sarah turned and whispered loudly to Chuck, "Don't do it, Chuck. That's our only leverage." Chuck felt conflicted, and he was sure it showed.

"Tell me, Ms. Walker, do you know how to jam that particular device?"

Casey jumped in. "Come over here and I'll show you how I jam it."

"Mr. Bartowski is quite free to release the handle; no explosives will be going off. The full band of frequencies used by that device is currently being jammed."

Sarah gave him a suspicious look, "And how would you know to do that?"

"Your agency is quite thorough, Ms. Walker. When you ask for certain equipment, the information is entered into a system. I have acquired a list of everything you requisitioned last night, including that particular device, and made the appropriate arrangements."

Casey asked, "Are you willing to bet your life on that?"

Minh nodded slowly but confidently. "Please, Mr. Bartowski, end the suspense. Let go of the handle. Let's see whether I am right or not."

Chuck was racked with indecision. Minh looked a bit irritated; he decided to help Chuck along. "Mr. Bartowski, if you do not release the handle, I will shoot one of your partners."

That made Chuck's decision easier; they were backed into a corner, and there was no other choice. With a sigh, Chuck took one last look at Sarah and Casey. "Sorry, guys." Casey and Sarah both turned to protest, warning Chuck not to do it, but his mind was made up. Flinching as if the explosives were in his hand and not in the trucks, he willed himself to release the handle.

Nothing happened.

Casey and Sarah turned back to Quan, but he had leapt behind the shield when they were distracted by Chuck. Having no other options, Sarah and Casey set their guns on the ground with pained expressions, and raised their hands. Chuck followed suit.

Four Vietnamese men with rifles came out of the shadows, two from behind the trio, and one from either side. They took up positions about ten feet away, training their guns on the group.

Minh had a pleased expression on his face. "Shall we adjourn inside?" he asked rhetorically.

**Scene XXXVII - Building 5E**

DCI Enterprises was apparently planning a demonstration of some of their products, because the interior of the hangar looked more like a convention center than an airplane hangar. The area immediately behind the hangar doors had been converted into a large greeting area; heavy purple curtains were suspended on wires from the high ceiling, creating an entryway complete with a folding table and chairs for the people who welcomed the guests. 

Three of the chairs now sat in a straight line opposite the table. Casey and Sarah were tied to the chairs at either end, while Quan finished tying up Chuck in a similar fashion. Three men with rifles kept watch on the prisoners; the fourth kept watch from behind the shield outside the hangar doors.

The trio couldn't see much from where they sat. Off to their left, a gap in the curtains revealed a large flatbed truck carrying a shipping container partially full of boxes; a ramp was still in place, suggesting that the loading wasn't yet complete. Other than that, all they saw were the purple curtains, the table with chairs, and a very pleased Andon Minh with Chien Quan at his side.

Minh stood near the table at the front of the room. He seemed to be studying each of them in turn. Chuck wondered what Minh saw when he looked at him.

He walked over to Casey. "Mr. Casey, I don't suppose Mr. Liniman is anywhere in the immediate area."

Casey smirked. "Sorry, he couldn't make it. He's off toasting in the New Year and telling us everything he knows about your operations."

Casey's barb actually seemed to sadden Minh a little. "Yes, a tragedy, that. It took me a while to build those operations; they were quite lucrative." He sighed. "But that ship has sailed, as it were.

"Given that your government is now aware of my activities, I imagine I will not be able to move around as freely as I once did. However, I do plan to take a few things with me as I exit the country that should provide some small comfort and compensation."

He smiled. "That, along with some information collected from the three of you."

Sarah laughed. "Do you really expect us to talk?"

"No, Ms. Walker, I do not expect you to talk. Your file is quite thorough; it seems you have a nearly legendary ability to resist interrogation. Quite impressive, actually."

Chuck never made it past 'your file'. He couldn't help asking, "Wha-what do you mean, 'her file'?"

Minh's briefcase rested on a table that looked to be designated for check-in, along with their ear wicks, the dead man's stick, and the various weapons retrieved from Casey and Walker. Minh walked over to the table, and opened the briefcase. He pulled out two file folders, and turned back towards the trio.

"I was able to acquire the files of Agent Walker," he held up the first folder for emphasis, "and Agent Casey," he said, holding up the other folder. Even given the situation, Chuck had trouble distracting himself from Sarah's file. He shook himself out of it as Minh approached.

"Interestingly, there was no file on you, Mr. Bartowski. Why would that be?"

Chuck gave an awkward laugh to try to conceal his discomfort. "I dunno, did you spell 'Bartowski' with an 'i' or a 'y'?"

Minh stood over Chuck, ignoring his comment. "Strange. There is no record of you in any government system, yet these agents seem to treat you like another agent. You were able to identify Mr. Quan despite a decided lack of intelligence in any government database. You came here essentially armed only with a dead man's stick. Most importantly, you do not strike me as an agent, Mr. Bartowski. Not in the least. You are truly an enigma."

Chuck was becoming more and more uncomfortable under Minh's scrutiny. It was obvious that Minh was close to figuring out the riddle, if he hadn't already.

Minh continued, "Mr. Bartowski, I would like to keep this civilized. Mr. Quan will be happy to, how shall I put it, coax the information from you, but I really prefer not to go that route."

Chuck looked up at Quan, who had retrieved a case of his own. Chuck was fairly certain that case did not contain file folders. Quan gave him an evil look.

"Please, save us all some time and discomfort, and tell me a little more about your role with this team."

Casey decided to cut in, "You seem to think you know everything, don't you."

Minh's face changed into the same irritated expression he got the previous times Casey interrupted him, which only increased the size of Casey's grin. "It is my job to know everything, Agent Casey. And I am exceedingly good at my job."

"Well, we all make mistakes."

Minh became even more irritated at the mere suggestion. "I do not. I knew your mission plan before you got here. I knew about the three Suburbans. I knew about the dead man's stick and the explosives in the trucks. I knew everything I needed to know to defeat you three while firing exactly one shot."

Casey gave him a cocky grin. "But what you don't know about are the two other men we brought with us. They weren't in the system."

"Please, Mr. Casey, that is below you. I am not one to fall for a bluff like that."

Casey grinned back, and gave three whistles, one long followed by two short. There was a hissing sound, instantly followed by a dull thud, and one of the guards dropped to the ground with a cry. A series of machine gun blasts struck the ground between the prisoners and the two other guards inside the hangar, chasing them back against the hangar doors. They desperately looked around, searching for the source of the shots.

Minh's eyes bulged in disbelief; he seemed frozen to the ground. Quan, moving quickly, grabbed Minh and dragged him back towards the display floor. Minh finally snapped out of his haze and began running on his own. 

Another hiss and a thud, and a second of Minh's guards collapsed, shot in the leg. He cried out in pain, dropped his weapon, and raised his hands in surrender. Unable to find any cover, the last remaining guard inside beat a hasty retreat out the hangar doors, narrowly avoiding another shot from the sniper. The two guards used Minh's shield for cover as they tried to angle for a shot inside; the positioning of the shield made that exceedingly difficult.

An agent toting a submachine gun entered the welcome area. He slid over to Casey as he fired some shots at the ground near the hangar doors for cover. The agent quickly cut Casey's hands free and dropped the knife in his lap. He moved forward to fire more cover shots at the doorway, keeping the guards pinned behind Minh's shield outside until he had help. 

Casey cut his feet free. He quickly hopped up, slicing Chuck's hands and feet free, then slicing Sarah's hands free and dropping the knife in her lap. 

Chuck protested as he stood up, shedding the rope. "What, I can't cut my own feet free?"

Casey was running over to reclaim the handguns and ear wicks from the table, taking a moment to seat his ear wick and stow the handguns in his belt. "Not the time, Bartowski. Find some cover and stay there." He tossed Chuck's ear wick to him, dropped Sarah's guns and ear piece at her feet, and grabbed a long piece of the rope she had cut free. He slid around the side of the room, kicking the weapon of the surrendering guard away and tying the man's hands behind his back.

Chuck was having trouble finding any cover. Aside from the welcome table, the entryway was empty except for the chairs. He was considering flipping the table over on its side when one of Minh's henchmen managed to get off a pair of shots that struck the ground towards Chuck's feet. Chuck let out a panicked cry and retreated behind the curtains into the main showroom area. There he found an open maze of booths and displays of DCI products. There was no sign of Minh or Quan.

The display booths were in varying states of completeness. Some of the booths were completely empty, others had boxed-up product samples with no displays, other had displays but no products. There was a large, mostly-completed raised area at the far end, obviously designed to highlight a few key items. 

More heavy purple curtains suspended on wires defined the central floor area while keeping large sections of the hangar out of view to either side. The floor was fairly orderly, with the exception of a large box that lay gutted towards one side of the floor; the molded shape of its packing suggesting it had contained the semi-circular shield out front. Chuck moved back a little into the display area and took shelter between two booths; he sat down, trying to will his heart rate to slow.

Sarah finally freed herself from her chair; the ropes around her feet had been stubborn, and she had trouble getting the right leverage to sever the rope. She seated her ear piece and retrieved her weapons. Adopting a flanking position to the opening in the hangar doors, she worked as a team with the other agent to help to neutralize the two henchmen, holding out until Casey could get into position. 

Minh's cronies were still caught behind the shield. It was an unfortunate choice of cover, because every move they tried to make was visible through the clear plastic. Casey slid along the front wall towards the opening, making signals to Sarah regarding where the gunmen were stationed, which Sarah confirmed with a nod or a shake of the head.

In the back of the hangar, Chuck heard a motorized door open. Staying low, Chuck crept towards the main stage area. The noise seemed to be coming from the left of the stage, mostly blocked from view. 

Using the front of the stage as cover, he peeked into a large open area in the corner of the hangar. Three shiny new vehicles were parked there: a motorcycle, a jeep, and … an ice cream truck.

"What the …?" Chuck muttered.

Chuck heard Minh's voice issuing commands in Vietnamese in the passenger seat of the jeep. It was the first time he had heard Minh raise his voice, and it was not a pretty sound. Suddenly, the jeep's engine started; Chuck looked around helplessly. He had no way to stop the jeep as it took off through the garage-door style opening in the side of the hangar. Chuck watched the jeep head off towards the closest airport runway.

"Minh and Quan have left the hangar," he said clearly into his mike. 

Sarah responded into her own mike, "Chuck, stay put. Do not pursue. Repeat: do not pursue." She fired off a pair of shots, both glancing harmlessly off the shield but pinning down one of the henchmen. Sarah was worried; this was taking far too long, and she was already almost out of ammo.

The sniper joined the other agents in the entryway, switching to a pair of handguns he extracted from his belt. With the increased numbers, Casey motioned to Sarah. "Go after Minh and Quan. I'll be right behind you." Sarah nodded and took off for the back of the hangar.

Casey tried to stick his head around the opening and quickly pulled back, narrowly avoiding giving one of the thugs a point-blank shot. Deciding that wasn't the best route, he ran over to the side of the hangar, looking for another way around.

After the jeep was safely gone, Chuck walked into the deserted area. He examined the motorcycle, running his hands along the seat, wishing he could go after the jeep. He allowed himself a brief fantasy of him on the motorcycle chasing down the jeep before giving a sardonic laugh. Even he had trouble picturing that one.

He looked over at the ice cream truck. He had less trouble picturing himself driving the ice cream truck, hunched over the wheel as Casey passed by on the motorcycle with a sarcastic, "Nice ride, Bartowski." He pictured General Beckham and Director Graham's reaction to the debriefing, and the disdainful looks they would direct at him. Chuck sighed.

Chuck looked over to his left. In the side areas behind the curtains, displays for each of the vehicles were partially erected; apparently they were destined for the stage. Chuck focused on the display for the motorcycle, and zeroed in on the model number: D119MPU.

Chuck's eyelids grew heavy as he flashed. 

A fire in a red brick fireplace.

Government contract requesting the motorcycle.

An image of a prototype of the bike. 

A design schematic for the bike. 

Page after page of instructions.

Similar documents on the jeep.

Similar documents on the ice cream truck.

The fire in the fire place.

Not only had this flash contained information about the motorcycle, it included intel on all of the government contracts for DCI Enterprises, along with documentation. He knew about the jeep, the motorcycle, and even the ice cream truck. All three had some serious extras. 

Using his mike, Chuck alerted the team, "We've got vehicles with serious firepower back here." He ran over towards the motorcycle, sitting on the driver's seat. He started familiarizing himself with the controls.

"Chuck!" Sarah's voice called from behind him and in his ear piece simultaneously. "What are you doing?" she asked as she ran up to him.

"What does it look like? Getting ready to go after Minh and Quan."

"Have you ever ridden a motorcycle before?" She looked over the bike, noticing a few things she didn't recognize.

"Well, no, but I was just…"

"Slide back."

"What?"

"I'm driving. You tell me what this thing can do."

Chuck slid back on the passenger seat. "No helmet?"

Sarah hopped onto the driver's seat. "No time." She turned the key and kick-started the bike with a practiced motion. "Hold on." Chuck wrapped his arms around her waist. She turned the throttle, and the back wheel spun, then gained traction. A loud roar echoed through the hangar as they took off.

Up front, the two nameless agents kept gaining ground on the door. Soon they were set up so that it was nearly impossible for the two henchmen to work their way around the side of the shields for any kind of shot at them, especially given their every move was visible through the shield. 

Suddenly, Casey barked, "Don't move!" The two henchmen looked to their left, and slowly raised their hands. "Drop your weapons! Hands up!" The pair complied; the other two agents rushed out to cover the prisoners.

Casey quickly ordered, "Secure the prisoners and the area. I'm going after the other two." Without waiting for confirmation, he took off for the back of the hangar, his eyes alight at the thought of a vehicle with heavy firepower. He had heard the motorcycle as it took off, and hoped there was a spare for him.

He sprinted into the back of the hangar. Seeing only the ice cream truck remaining, he moaned, "Aw, nuts." He jumped into the truck and turned the key in the ignition. Jingly little music started playing at the engine kicked on. He shifted into drive and floored the accelerator. The truck took off at a snail's pace. 

Casey was not amused.

Sarah and Chuck were quickly closing the gap with the jeep. About a mile ahead, the jeep turned right into the narrow alley between two buildings. Rather than follow them directly, Sarah yelled, "Hang on!" and turned right onto the road paralleling the alley to the side of the buildings, quickly coming back to speed. "Does this thing have anything to help disable the jeep?"

Chuck tried to focus, skimming the specs in his mind. "Front rockets." He skimmed some more. "Machine guns." He kept skimming.

"No, we need to try to take them alive."

"Caltrops."

"Perfect! How do I activate them?"

"Blue button on the inside of your right handle. Push the button away from you to unlock it; depress the button to deploy."

Sarah found the button; a circular blue light ringed the base of the button. As she unlocked the control, the whole button lit up in the same color of blue. She picked a cross street and made a sharp left, dipping the bike close to the ground. Chuck stifled a cry of alarm.

Up ahead, the buildings crowding the road gave way to parking lots ringed all four sides of the intersection, leaving an open view for them. Up the street to the left, the headlights of the jeep were shining between two buildings. Sarah warned, "Uh oh. This is going to be close!" She turned the throttle.

Chuck screamed, "Sar-ahhhh!" as the bike took off.

The motorcycle crossed the intersection about ten feet in front of the jeep. As they crossed, Sarah depressed the blue button. The caltrops spread over the intersection with a tinny, tinkling sound.

Sarah braked for a moment before skidding to a stop, throwing the back wheel of the bike around so they could watch what happened to the jeep. It was all Chuck could do to not get thrown, holding onto the bike between his legs and Sarah with his arms. 

The jeep crossed the intersection; all four tires blew, and the car slowed. A smile lit up Sarah's face … until the tires re-inflated automatically. The jeep gained speed again.

Sarah gave Chuck an evil look. Chuck was already scanning the specs for the jeep. "Yep. Sorry. Missed that." Sarah peeled out again in pursuit.

Casey was only moving about 40 miles per hour. "Chuck!" he yelled into his mike.

The wind roaring through Chuck's ears made it difficult for him to hear. He used Sarah's back as a shield against the wind. "What!" Chuck screamed in response.

"I thought you said the ice cream truck had some firepower." His tone made it clear whom he blamed for the current state of affairs.

"It does, but it has to be activated; the vehicle has a civilian mode and a pursuit mode!" 

"How do I activate pursuit mode?"

"Enter 225411 on the radio presets!"

Casey looked down to find the radio, and started entering the numbers.

Chuck continued, "You might want to buckle yourself…"

Upon entering the last number, the radio panel flashed, then flipped. A number of other gauges flipped as well, revealing numerous high-tech displays and control panels. The doors to the driver's compartment slammed shut, while the serving window sun screen flipped up and latched down onto the roof. Part of the floor levered up to close the gap in the window, mounting a set of rockets on the side of the truck.

Most notably, rocket boosters popped out of the rear of the truck and fired, throwing Casey back against his seat. The vehicle took off down the runway; Casey's face transformed from annoyed to thrilled. He let out a maniacal laugh the as the speedometer tore upwards.

Sarah was following the jeep at a safe distance. "Anything else I need to know about the jeep?" She sounded annoyed.

Suddenly, a rocket launched from the back of the jeep. Apparently Quan and Minh hadn't figured out how to aim them, because the rocket went well wide of them.

"You mean, aside from the rockets?" he said, turning to follow the rocket's path behind them.

"Chuck!" she screamed.

"Grease film and rockets, but that's about it off the back. Now, if he gets turned around…"

"He won't. How many rockets does he have?"

"Three more."

"Great."

Rocket #2 fired, this one passing within three feet of them. Sarah slid over to the right side of the road, just as rocket #3 whisked right through their previous line. She periodically slid from one side to the other, trying not to give the jeep a target for the last rocket.

Casey called in. "Where are you guys?"

Chuck correctly guessed that Casey was still on the runway. Shielding himself behind Sarah again, he answered, "Turn right between the first two buildings ahead."

Casey saw the buildings, and started braking. The brakes were good, but there was no way he could slow down in time. "How am I supposed to turn this boat at 90 miles per hour?"

Chuck scanned the specs. "It can handle that."

"WHAT?"

"Wait; you need to get your speed is under 80, but it can make the turn!"

Casey kept a foot on the brakes and checked the speedometer. He would be below 80 when he turned, but his face clearly expected the worst. He reached across with one hand to pull his seatbelt across his body and buckle himself in. With an expectantly pained expression on his face, he started his turn.

On the roof of the vehicle, a wing rose along one side, pinning the truck to the ground as it made its turn. Sure enough, the truck kept all four wheels on the ground; Casey almost clipped the near wall, expecting to need more room.

He stepped on the accelerator after the turn, and the rockets burst into life again. Pressed against the seat, he gave a fierce, satisfied smile, his eyes alight. "I gotta get one of these."

Sarah continued zigzagging across the road to make herself a lousy target. Up ahead, the rear of the jeep grew fuzzy. Sarah knew what was coming.

"Hang on!" she screamed again.

"You say that an awful lot," Chuck complained, tightening his grip around her waist.

The jeep had deployed the grease film, spraying the air and the road with light-colored oil. Sarah slowed down briefly, anticipating the start of the field, and then picked a straight line and did not waver. "Hold still!" she commanded. Chuck froze as best he could.

The wheels of the bike slipped a little, but Sarah managed to keep the bike upright as they passed through the field. The grease in the air settled all over them, creating a slick sensation on their faces and a foul taste in the mouth of Chuck, who didn't think to keep his mouth shut. He made a disgusted face, flinching and trying to rid his mouth of the taste.

Just after they exited the field, the jeep fired its last rocket. Sarah took a chance that the grease had come of the tires and dodged back to her left. Her instincts were good; the wheels managed to hold on the dry ground, and the rocket passed them on the right. Sarah quickly aligned the wheels forward.

Chuck looked behind him, checking for Casey. His headlights were still a good ways back. He turned back forward. "Casey! Casey! Grease field ahead!"

"Roger that," was Casey's only reply. Chuck took another peek, and saw the ice cream truck slowing in the distance; not knowing exactly where the field lay, Casey must have decided to find another way around.

Out of rockets, the jeep swung to the left through the gate of a high-chain linked fence into a warehouse area. There were stacks and stacks of crates to the left and drums to the right. The jeep swung right.

"Enough of this," Sarah said intently. "How do I fire the rockets?"

Chuck scanned his mind again. "Press the speedometer gauge twice to activate video."

Sarah complied; the round speedometer suddenly showed a view of the road ahead of them. She turned left to go through the gate.

"Select a target by touching the video screen. When you have the target you want, depress the yellow button to the left of the view; the rocket will lock on via the video, and the button will turn green. Press the red button to the right to fire. You have two rockets."

Sarah swung back to the right, but rather than aiming at the jeep, she aimed at a huge stack of drums further along the road. Locking in the target, she pressed the red button.

She had to fight for control of the motorcycle as the rocket ignited, torquing the handlebars. She braked, waiting to see the result of her shot.

The rocket flew slowly for a second, then gained speed and exploded on the bottom level of the drums. The explosion blew the stack of drums into the air about forty yards in front of the jeep, resulting in a hailstorm of empty drums onto the road.

Quan instinctively swerved to avoid the first couple of drums entering his vision, and was forced left towards a warehouse wall. A falling drum crashed against the windshield, cracking it to the point where Quan could no longer see where he was going. Effectively blinded, he slammed on the brakes to try to avoid crashing into the wall, but couldn't. The car slammed into the wall, coming to an abrupt halt. Drums continued to crash down, several banging off the roof of the jeep.

Sarah slowed the bike to a stop a fair distance from the falling drums. The wind was in their face, and apparently not all of the drums had been empty. "Phew! What's that smell?" Sarah asked.

A barrel crashed down near the two, bursting and filling the air with liquid, splashing the two. The smell of rotten eggs was heavy in their noses.

"I'm no expert," Chuck said, spitting out a little of the liquid, "but I'm pretty sure there's sulfur involved." 

Up ahead, Minh and Quan staggered from the car, and ran off towards the closest warehouse. Quan kicked the door in, and the two entered. 

Sarah hopped off the bike, and quickly turned to Chuck, "Stay here!" She ran off in pursuit.

Chuck was left sitting on the bike. "Wait on the motorcycle, Chuck," he said to himself. "Well, at least it isn't a car." He tried to slide off gracefully, and promptly fell face-first into the dirt. A fair bit of the sandy soil stuck to the grease on his face.

He pushed himself to his knees and vainly tried to clean some of the grit and grime off of him. He sighed. The only way that could have been worse was if…

Up pulled the ice cream truck, Casey with a deranged grin on his face. He hopped out, and walked up to Chuck with a smile on his face. "Nice dismount. But I think the Soviet judge may deduct a few points for the landing."

"You do know the Soviet Union is gone, right?"

Casey shrugged. "If you say so."

"Would you get in there?" Casey dashed off. 

Chuck picked himself up and dusted off angrily, except the dirt clung to the damp patches of what used to be a uniformly black outfit. Chuck's expression grew even more disgusted.

**Scene XXXVIII – DCI Enterprises, Warehouse 1K**

Sarah burst the busted door, gun drawn. It was dark in the warehouse except for some red security lights; this door apparently led to the office section of the building. A hallway ran straight ahead between a pair of low walls, but there were also small walkways running along the warehouse walls to either side. She stopped to listen for a minute and let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting; there wasn't a sound.

The door flew open behind her with a loud bang; Casey and Sarah trained their guns on each other for a moment before recognition set in. Down the main hallway, there was a sound of somebody tripping and then cursing in Vietnamese. Recognizing the location of their target, the pair moved down the hallway, Sarah on point.

They quickly came to the end of the offices, entering an open area filled with stacks of crates. Ahead and to the right, but fainter than before, they heard somebody scuff their shoe on the sealed warehouse floor. Proceeding with caution and occasionally checking behind them, they continued straight through the warehouse.

Footsteps echoed from a point directly to the right. Quan likely wasn't that clumsy, but Minh may not know how to move silently. Unfortunately, the noise could just as easily be a ploy: Quan might be laying in wait along the way. The agents moved through the maze of crates carefully, trading off point duties as one covered for the other.

Casey was on point duty when they entered a small open area, not unlike several that they had navigated prior. By his estimation, they were still a fair distance from where the footfalls were created, but they had not heard any additional noises for a few minutes. After a quick scan around the tops of the crates, Casey entered the open area, trying to cover the likely hiding spots.

As Casey scanned right, he heard quick light footsteps behind him. He knew he couldn't get his gun hand around in time, so he spun the other way and threw up his left arm, hoping to block the attack he knew was coming.

Quan launched a flying kick. Casey managed to partially deflect the attack before Quan's foot struck him in the chest, knocking him back to the ground. Before Quan could move, Sarah brought a flying kick of her own to bear, catching Quan full in the stomach. He fell back onto the ground, and held up his right hand in surrender.

Sarah approached cautiously, gun leveled at him. Apparently, Quan had injured himself somewhere along the way; he had a long gash in his leg he was holding with his left hand.

Casey was quickly on his feet again. "Where is Minh?" Casey demanded.

Back towards the entrance, Minh had made his way back around to the door they had entered. Quan was exceedingly loyal; he had led the agents off, allowing him to make his way back around to the exit. No matter; the agents would take Quan in, and Minh would find out where he was and rescue him. He had done it before. With one last pause to listen for any noise, he made his move, pulling the outer door open and rushing through.

Minh ran about ten feet from the door before the headlights and spotlights of the ice cream truck came on; he instinctively put his hands over his face to protect his eyes.

"Please do not move, Mr. Minh," Chuck said into the microphone for the speaker on the front of the truck. With a touch and the press of a button, he locked the rockets onto Minh. "You currently have a guided rocket locked onto you. I believe you had a similar system in your jeep?"

Minh's face grew defeated; he reluctantly put his hands over his head. 

"Sit down, but leave your hands over your head." Minh complied.

Chuck sat in the driver's seat of the ice cream truck, feet on the dash, heat vents blasting on him as he sucked on a fudgesicle. He looked exceedingly pleased with things. He said to nobody in particular, "You know? Some times it's good to wait in the car."


	9. Auld Lang Syne

**Scene XXXIX - DCI Enterprises**

Chuck, Casey and Sarah headed back to the airplane hangar in the ice cream truck. The motorcycle sat in the back of the truck, along with Minh and Quan, who were handcuffed to posts on the base of the freezer. Casey was driving; nobody else was getting a turn if he had anything to say about it.

As they drove, Sarah placed a call while steadying herself against the roof; there was only one seat. "Agent Walker requests clean-up crew, building 5E, DCI Enterprises research facility." She listened for a minute and nodded. "Understood." She hung up. "25 minutes."

Chuck, working hard to keep his feet on his tired legs, shook his head in disbelief: you couldn't order a pizza in 25 minutes in L.A.

The truck slowed to a stop in the middle of the three Suburbans. Chuck and Sarah jumped out as soon as the truck was parked. A bit reluctantly, Casey stroked the steering wheel for a moment before climbing out.

Chuck noted, "You have the oddest taste in vehicles."

Casey came around the front of the truck and faced Chuck. "Maybe. But at least I know how to stay clean on a mission." He looked Chuck up and down for emphasis; somehow, the comment made Chuck feel even more disgusting. Between the oil slick and the sulfuric liquid and rolling around in the dirt, he knew he had to be a sight to behold.

With a satisfied gleam in his eye, Casey turned around to walk towards the hangar. While the front of Casey's outfit was spotless, large patches of greasy dirt clung to the back of it. Apparently, when Chuck lounged in the driver's seat, some of his grime rubbed off.

Chuck was about to say something, but Sarah put her hand on his arm to stop him. "Let him find out on his own," she said with a slightly evil grin. Chuck shared the evil grin with her before they followed Casey into the hangar.

While Casey and Sarah briefed the other two agents, Chuck wandered aimlessly. The four henchmen lay on their sides in the middle of the welcoming area, unable to move with their hands and legs bound, their mouths gagged for good measure. Chuck walked over to the table at the front of the room, intending to grab the dead man's stick again. Instead, he saw the file folders that Minh had obtained, one labeled "Agent Casey" and the other labeled "Agent Walker". He picked up Sarah's file folder. Everything he wanted to know was in there. Her history. Her mission records. Her name.

Chuck looked longingly at the folder. He knew it might be his one chance to find out about her, but he also knew it wasn't right. He sighed, and set the file back on the table and picked up the dead man's stick instead. 

"Thank you," Sarah said in a low voice. He turned around to see her standing a few feet away, with her hands behind her back and a grateful smile on her face.

Chuck gave a small smile back; he felt a sudden need to change the subject. Hefting the stick, he said, "You know, part of me was really hoping to get to use this. It's the first weapon I was allowed to have on a mission."

Sarah looked surprised. "That's a Casey-esque attitude: 'what good is an unused weapon'."

"I'll put that on a T-shirt for his birthday. Not that I know when that is." 

Sarah nodded sympathetically. "Well, we hoped things would play out this way. The other way was a little dicier." She looked around. "I'd better go help move Minh and Quan into the hangar with the others."

As Sarah walked away, Chuck stood there thinking about what she said. The explosives had been part of the bluff; they falsified the requisition to fool Minh, expecting him to get a copy of the order. That was part of the reason Minh had delayed the meeting until Monday night: it gave time for the information to be entered into the various systems and for him to retrieve it. The explosives had never been delivered.

Instead, the dead man's stick had actually been hooked up to launch and detonate a series of flash grenades. These would have blinded Minh and his crew, hopefully giving enough time for Casey, Sarah and the other two agents to take charge. As a bonus, as long as Minh thought the stick was hooked to explosives, it also provided a measure of protection for Chuck, making him a less desirable target. The downside was that, if they were forced to use the flash grenades, Sarah, Casey and Chuck would have had no cover, making it a riskier proposition.

Chuck's instincts about releasing the sticks were right on target; Sarah and Casey had told him so by protesting loudly. If either didn't want it to happen for some reason, they would have agreed with Chuck rather than protesting. Simple, but effective.

All in all, the team was perfectly happy to be captured. Well, at least Sarah and Casey were, but Chuck recognized the need for it. They wanted to find out as much as they could about what Minh knew, and the easiest way was to let him interrogate them. After all, an information broker's primary weapon was more information, so they could expect to find out a great deal just by being interrogated. They were able to verify much of how Minh operated, which would help them clean house at the various agencies. 

Although he had no way of knowing it at the time, Casey may have made a mistake when he jumped on Quan so quickly. They would need to tread more carefully when using certain Intersect data in the future.

Chuck snapped out of his thoughts and checked his watch. It was 10:17. "Sarah?" he cried out in alarm.

Sarah checked her watch as well. "Casey…" she said apologetically.

"I know, I know, your cover. Get out of here. I'll get there when I can."

Sarah took off at a run. "C'mon, Chuck."

Chuck groaned. "If this were a TV show, this would be where they cut to commercial." His body protesting, he broke into a reluctant run.

**Scene XL – Los Angeles Freeway**

Sarah and Chuck sped through town in the Porsche. Between the sweat and the grease and the sulfuric liquid, the term 'dirty' didn't begin to describe the two of them. They had nothing to throw over the seats, so Sarah's car was going to need a serious detailing job the next day, but that couldn't be helped.

Tearing through Ellie's neighborhood, they caught a big break when a sedan full of revelers pulled out of the spot right outside the arched entryway to the apartment complex. Sarah quickly parked, and the two hopped out.

Taking a bit of a chance, the two sprinted up the main path, Sarah with her overnight bag slung over her shoulder. The night was unusually cold, so they were hoping that nobody would be outside the apartment smoking a cigarette or on a cell phone; it would be tough to explain their filthy clothes. Pulling up just before the courtyard entrance, silence indicated that they had caught their second serious break.

The Morgan Door had long since been rigged by Casey and Sarah to provide easy access to Chuck's room, and they took advantage to bypass the party inside. Apparently Ellie and Devon had chosen to use Chuck's room as the coat room, because his bed was covered with a pile of them. Chuck quickly headed over and locked the door. The clock on his bedside table read 11:07. "We might actually do this," Chuck said excitedly.

By the time he turned around, Sarah was already halfway done digging through Chuck's dresser. "Can I help you?" Chuck inquired in an annoyed tone.

She stood up at his tone. "What, you really think we haven't been through your drawers already?"

"Well, I did until a minute ago."

With a wicked little gleam in her eye, she asked, "By the way, what's up with the back of the bottom drawer?"

"I'm sure Casey has details he could share. And when do I get to search your hotel room? Seems only fair."

Sarah pulled up, blushing slightly. "You don't. But point taken." She stopped searching and said, "We need a sheet or something for wrapping up our clothes. Do you have a spare?"

Chuck thought for a second. He went into the closet, and dug into the back of the closet, pulling out a box that probably hadn't seen the light of day in five years. Tearing through the tape, he pulled out his old bed sheets from his dorm at Stanford and spread one on the floor.

"Perfect," said Sarah. "Turn around." She started removing items of clothing with a disturbing lack of modesty and dropping them onto the sheet. Chuck stared for a brief moment before tearing his eyes away and turning around. He started to remove his own clothes. "Ladies first," he said, conceding the first shower to Sarah.

"Good. I'll need to dry my hair." The door to the bathroom closed, and the shower was quickly on. Chuck was starting to take off his pants when the bathroom door opened back up a crack; Sarah's arm poked through the opening, holding her necklace by the chain. "Here, see if you can clean this."

Chuck took the necklace, and the door closed again. He set the necklace on a Kleenex on the nightstand, and finished stripping down, dropping his clothes onto the sheet. Luckily, these were all the agency's clothes, except for socks and underwear, so they could be burned for all Chuck cared.

He cleaned the necklace as best he could using one of the pillowcases from his dorm room set. He then used the fabric to clean himself up enough that he could slip on an old pair of boxers and a pair of jeans. He cleared enough room on a corner of the bed to allow himself to sit. All he really wanted to do was crawl beneath the sheets, but his night wasn't over yet.

He looked at the necklace for a minute, a prop in his not-so-real relationship with Sarah. Suddenly, he became frustrated by the props and the covers and the complications. The spy life was tough enough without having to remember to wear watches and necklaces that had no meaning.

Bryce was right when he said the spy world wasn't made for guys like Chuck: he needed things to be more real. Chuck looked towards the bathroom, as if he somehow could see Sarah through the door. Even though he wasn't sure how the evening would turn out, there was something he could do about that. 

**Scene XLI - Chuck's bedroom**

The shower had been off for a couple of minutes. Chuck sat on the edge of the bed, trying hard not to topple over onto the pile of coats: somebody would not have been happy with the sheen of grease and dust he would have left on their coat.

The bathroom door cracked open again. "Chuck, do you have…"

"Hanging on the door knob," Chuck shot back. Chuck's robe hung there; it would be two sizes too big, but it would do the job.

"Thanks." She yanked the robe into the bathroom, cursing as she knocked some bottle off the counter while trying to corral the bulky fabric. Chuck couldn't help but smile.

Sarah exited the bathroom with the robe draped over her, carrying a hair dryer and towel-drying her hair, a wave of steam slipping out the door with her. In his fatigued state, Chuck was not prepared for his reaction when he looked at her: even wearing the bulky robe, she took his breath away. 

Sarah walked towards the corner without looking at Chuck, and started fumbling in her bag for something. Chuck reluctantly pulled himself up from the bed, and started shambling towards the bathroom. As an afterthought, he took off his watch and set it on the bed. "Your turn with the cleaning." He grabbed the clothes he had chosen for the party and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Sarah finished combing her hair and started cleaning Chuck's watch, sitting in the same spot Chuck had used at the corner of the bed. As she finished polishing the watch, her motions slowed as something occurred to her. She gave a surreptitious look to the bathroom door, as if worried Chuck might see her. With a businesslike expression, she set the watch face-down on the dresser and dug a small black kit out of her bag. She pulled out a tiny screwdriver and started to unscrew the back panel.

**Scene XLII - NYE Party, Ellie's**

Chuck finished showering and getting dressed just as Sarah finished applying her make-up. He took one last look in his mirror; Sarah made a couple of last adjustments to his shirt, which apparently wasn't sitting quite right.

He looked at her, and asked, "Ready?"

She gave him one final once-over. "Almost." She walked over to the dresser and picked up the watch, handing it to Chuck. "Can't forget your watch," she said with an odd little hitch in her voice; she cleared her throat. "Sorry; I'm a little parched."

He smiled his thanks, slipping the watch onto his wrist. The watch reminded him of his "gift" to her; his smile grew when he saw the necklace around her neck.

They slipped out of their room just after 11:30, trying to remain inconspicuous. No such luck; Ellie quickly noticed them and ran over to give Chuck a huge hug. "I didn't think you were going to make it," she said with a happy smile.

Chuck looked her dead in the eye. "Neither did I." He gave her another hug while Sarah looked on with a smile.

Ellie released Chuck and gave Sarah a hug as well, and after releasing her said, "I'm so glad you're here."

Sarah's smile grew. "Me too."

Devon worked his way over to Chuck. "Couldn't help but notice the two of you slipping out of the bedroom. A little New Year's nookie? Awesome. Up high, bro." Ellie gave Devon a disapproving look as he held his hand up expectantly.

Chuck obliged, and then barbed, "And that may just have been the last official 'awesome' of 2007."

Devon gave Chuck a dirty look, and then gave Sarah a hug. "Sarah, you look awesome."

Chuck looked around, "Apparently not. The big guy had one more in him." Ellie laughed.

The two circled the room, saying hello to the people they knew. Morgan and Anna had begged off of Ellie's invitation; apparently some of the Buy More crew were ringing in the New Year's over at Jeff's. However, there were still plenty of people that both of them knew from the other holiday parties.

Sarah and Casey were just finishing a conversation with a pair of residents from Ellie's hospital when Sarah tugged Chuck's sleeve. "Care to dance?" she asked with a dazzling smile.

Chuck looked at the residents. "How can I say no to that?" he asked rhetorically.

Sarah took Chuck's hand and led him to the area where the couches usually sat; Ellie and Devon had moved the furniture to the sides of the room to create a dance floor. A slow song was playing, and only a few couples were dancing. 

"Time for a little cover work?" Chuck asked as they found a spot.

"Something like that," Sarah said with a soft smile. "Gotta sell it."

"Well, that's what you keep telling me."

Sarah slid her hands behind Chuck's neck. Chuck looked like he wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands; he finally slid them around her waist.

The two didn't say anything for a long moment, swaying to the music. Chuck gave a small laugh.

"What?" asked Sarah curiously.

"I just … I just couldn't help remember the first time you asked me to dance. At the club?"

Sarah chuckled. "That was a bit of an unusual circumstance."

"Yeah, that was one of the last moments before I knew you were a secret agent, and the only reason you were hitting on me was because of the Intersect." He looked a little sad.

Sarah looked to the side before responding. "Well, look on the bright side. If not for the Intersect, we never would have met."

"There is that, isn't there," Chuck said with a smile. Sarah returned the smile, and moved her hands down under his arms, wrapping her arms around him. She laid her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes with a peaceful smile. He closed his eyes as well, savoring the moment.

Chuck sensed the typical pre-midnight countdown preparations going on around them: champagne being passed around, couples finding each other, and a general growing buzz of excitement. He had spent part of the day wondering about this moment: if it would ever happen, and if so, how would he deal with it?

The first question now answered, he came to an answer on the second as well. On Christmas, he had made the decision to make the day about Ellie and Sarah. This was going to be about him.

Somewhere in the background, Ellie cried out, "Get ready guys!" 

At the call, Sarah slowly lifted her head from Chuck's shoulder, and stared into Chuck's eyes with a serious expression on her face. "You know we have to do this, right?" she asked, a bit breathless.

Around the room, the countdown started, "10 … 9 … 8 … 7 …"

"I'm ready," was all he said. He'd been ready for a long time.

"6 … 5 … 4 …"

Her eyes shifted back and forth between his, her face not changing expression. Once again, that odd feeling of normalcy, of being just another couple, came over Chuck. All he could do was stare back.

"3 … 2 … 1 … "

He kissed her, just before the "Happy New Years" erupted around the room, and before Sarah had moved an inch. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close to him. She tensed up for a moment, as if expecting something like the little peck on the cheek he once gave her at the Buy More. For a long moment she didn't react. 

Suddenly, she melted. 

She kissed him back, fiercely, passionately. Her hands stroked his face, wrapped around his neck. 

The room around them erupted into song.

_Should old acquaintance be forgot…_

One of his hands tangled in her hair, keeping her lips pressed to his. His tongue slipped into her mouth; hers slowly intertwined with his, teasing, playing. His breath caught in his throat.

_And never brought to mind…_

Slowly, the kiss ebbed, gently bringing Chuck down from the heights. Their lips gently separated, but his mouth lingered in front of hers a moment longer, sharing a last breath with her.

_Should old acquaintance be forgot…_

They slowly pulled back from each other. Chuck had pictured kissing Sarah earlier that day; what he hadn't done was consider the moment after. He so badly wanted her to say something, to do something, to tell him if anything had really changed.

_And days of auld lang syne!_

As he tried to decipher her expression, a spontaneous cheer went up around the room at the completion of the song, shaking both from their trance, stealing them from their moment. Sarah and Chuck both looked around like embarrassed teenagers, as if expecting to find a watching audience when they turned around.

Around the room, people were exchanging New Year's good wishes, with handshakes, hugs and kisses where appropriate. Sarah and Chuck looked back at each other; Sarah had the same indecipherable expression on her face.

"John!"

Chuck and Sarah both turned at Ellie's shout, mistaking it for one of alarm. Following her glance, they looked to the front door. Casey stood about fifteen feet away, looking directly at Chuck and Sarah, his face unreadable. Ellie and Devon walked over to greet him and wish him a happy new year, and Casey's attention was drawn away from the pair. Casey smiled and shook Devon's hand, and gave Ellie a stiff hug.

Sarah took advantage of the distraction to grab Chuck by the arm; she looked at him with an intense and emotional expression. "We need to talk when there aren't so many people around," she said in a quiet voice, with an odd little tilt of her head towards the door. 

As Chuck was trying to figure out what she could mean by that, Ellie grabbed Chuck by the shoulder, turning him around. She gave Chuck a fond smile and a huge hug. "Happy New Year, Charles," she whispered in his ear. He wasn't so sure.

**Scene XLIII - Ellie's Apartment**

Chuck, Sarah and Casey remained at the party for a while, exchanging fond wishes for the New Year and talking to various people. Chuck and Sarah stood near each other most of that time, but Chuck sensed a rigidness about Sarah that hadn't been there before. He tried to catch her eye to smile at her a couple of times; she had tried to smile back the first time, but couldn't maintain eye contact. The next couple of times, she had looked away, seeming afraid to meet his eyes. 

He thought about how uncomfortable she seemed around him now. She didn't seem to want to confront the issue. Maybe he'd have to do the thinking for both of them.

The silver lining was that Chuck knew he could trust her: Sarah was always straight with him.

About 12:30, Chuck excused himself to walk Casey and Sarah out. Sarah had her bag slung over her shoulder, while Chuck carried the soiled clothes in one sheet, plus the other sheet from his Stanford set. Sarah was going to need a cover for her seat so she wouldn't have to sit in the filth left there earlier.

The three walked through the deserted courtyard, where Casey was able to provide a mission update. "Minh and Quan, along with his other henchmen, are safely secured at an interrogation facility. Liniman is there as well, although in a much more comfortable room."

Sarah inquired, "He's OK then?"

Casey replied, "Yes, and very grateful." He gave a sardonic laugh. "He still hasn't recovered from being shot at. Can't say I'm going to miss the guy." 

Chuck smiled, "Well, I can't understand that at all. Either part."

The trio stopped by the fountain. Casey continued, "Also, four analysts in three agencies were arrested tonight. Three of them were caught searching on terms like 'Casey', 'Quan', 'Walker', and 'Bartowski' with no reason to do so. A fourth was caught querying the requisition you filed last night, Walker."

"But there could be more, couldn't there?"

"Sure, but hopefully Minh will name any others. Apparently, he is already singing like a canary. He has a ton of information, and he's using it all to cut a deal."

Chuck looked surprised. "What, he'll go free?"

"Hardly. But he'll get to live, and he won't get the stuffing beat out of him either. He's got nothing to gain by being quiet at this point, and every time he helps us track down one of his buyers, he'll get something for it. He's trading information, just like he always has."

The conversation abruptly ground to a halt. Chuck was hoping Casey would call it a night and head into his apartment so he and Sarah could talk on the way to the car, but no such luck. After an awkward pause, Sarah broke the silence. "Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm dead on my feet." She turned to Chuck, and requested, "Walk me to my car?"

"Of course. What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn't?" Chuck said ironically, looking back and forth between the two of them with a smile.

Casey's eyes squinted. "I'll walk you, too. Need to stretch my legs." Neither Chuck nor Sarah looked particularly happy about the chaperone, but neither said anything.

The three walked down a large portion of the path without saying anything; Chuck tried to break the silence. "All in all, not a bad day." 

Sarah nodded, her eyes lost in thought.

Casey grunted, his face flat.

Chuck gave up. The three walked through the arch; Casey stopped just on the other side, letting Chuck and Sarah walk the rest of the way to the car alone. Chuck wordlessly handed Sarah the sheet; Sarah walked around to her door, while Chuck loaded the soiled clothes into the trunk. She turned the key in the ignition so she could put the windows all the way down; she had left them cracked in hopes that the smell would fade during the party. No such luck.

Chuck knelt down and rested his arms on the edge of the window. "Phew. Still kind of stinks in here." 

"Yeah, I guess I know what I'm doing tomorrow."

Sarah finished smoothing out the sheet, and eased herself into her seat. She still seemed hesitant to look directly at him, preferring to dig around in her bag. She pulled out a hair band and pulled her hair back into a pony tail.

Between her demeanor and Casey standing nearby, Chuck looked for a safe conversation topic. "So, I made a New Year's resolution tonight."

Sarah finally looked directly at him, giving him a curious look. "Really? What was it?"

Chuck smiled. "I, Charles Irving Bartowski, hereby resolve to get better at my jobs. Both of them."

His light tone was obviously cheering up Sarah a little bit. She even managed a bit of a smile, but she still wasn't saying anything.

Chuck probed, "How about you? Did you make any resolutions?"

Sarah looked out of her element. "Not really. I've never really done that before." She paused for a second. "Any ideas?"

The smile on Chuck's face slowly turned serious, as he thought for a moment. "Yes. I think you should resolve to find happiness in your heart this year. Maybe even tonight."

The comment brought a range of emotions to Sarah's face, but predominantly confusion. "What?"

Chuck's response had a slow pace to it. "Just what I said. I think you'll find happiness in your heart."

Chuck gave a small laugh at her baffled expression. "Drive safe." He tapped the roof of the car as he stood up and backed away.

Inside the car, Sarah was distracted by Chuck's last comment. Was it an oblique reference to the kiss or their feelings? As much as she wanted it to be, that didn't feel right; his tone was all wrong. So what was it? She grabbed her spare jacket from the back seat; with the windows down, it was going to be a cold, and confusing, ride home. She turned the key and took off with a roar.

Chuck walked back to Casey's side and watched her fly off with sad eyes. He laughed ironically at his own ridiculous thought, but he couldn't help himself. "Here's looking at you, kid," he whispered under his breath.

Remembering Casey was still standing there, Chuck turned around and joined him under the arch. "So, Casey, you calling it a night?"

"Actually, if it's OK with you, I was hoping to come back and join you guys for a little while longer."

Chuck looked surprised. "I thought you avoided these types of emotional holiday scenes."

Casey shrugged. "I do. Just not tonight." His look told Chuck he wasn't going to say anything more on the subject.

That explained Casey lingering in the courtyard; he just wanted an invite back in. Chuck was pleasantly surprised. "Well, all right!" 

As they started to walk back up the path, Chuck put his arm around Casey. In a bad Humphrey Bogart voice, he said, "Casey, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Casey shook his arm off. "Don't touch me," he said tersely.

"OK then."

**Scene XLIV - Sarah's hotel room**

Sarah entered her hotel room, dropping her keys and purse on the entry table, nearly missing the table with the keys. She really didn't care. She plopped down on the edge of her bed, falling back with a groan. She was exhausted, in more ways than one.

When Sarah got up that morning, she wanted only two things: to accomplish their mission, and to find out that she hadn't ruined her chances with Chuck. Both had gone so well, but here she was, miserable.

Nothing was easy. Well, it turned out that night's job was relatively easy, but the job was never the problem. It was the other thing.

Chuck had kissed her. Just thinking the words made her heart beat faster. And not just any kiss: the guy who hated public displays of affection had taken her breath away, brushing her emotional shields away as if they were cobwebs.

The kiss wasn't the problem; it was the moment after. Instinctively, the shields came rushing back in. She may be able to face down trained killers and ruthless businessmen, but she had no idea what to say to Chuck as he stood there, patiently waiting for a response of some kind. And then Casey was there. What had he seen? If he saw them in the midst of that kiss...

Nothing was easy. She was on the verge of losing it again; she knew she would break down if she lay there any longer. She stood up and walked into the bathroom, forcing herself into everyday activities to keep herself grounded. It was a trick that had served her so well in the past.

She started combing out her hair, her mind drifting back to Chuck's comment at the end of the evening. "I think you'll find happiness in your heart," she muttered. She still ruled out any direct reference to what had happened that night; it just didn't seem to fit, the way that he had said it. No, it sounded like a riddle of some kind.

She put down the comb and bent over the sink to splash water on her face. As she raised up to dry herself off, she caught the reflection of her necklace in the mirror. Setting down her towel, she played with it between her thumb and forefinger, watching the light shine off of it. A prop, Chuck had called it. She stifled a sound with a hand; even she wasn't sure if it was a sardonic laugh or a tearful sob. Nothing was easy.

Letting the necklace settle back into place, she studied how the pendant lay beneath her neck. Kind of cheesy, just like Chuck. She smiled. It was perfect. It was … a heart! 

Sarah quickly removed off the necklace and set it on the counter. She opened it up: inside was the tiny picture of her and Chuck she had put there. She frowned; there was nothing there. Or was there? 

She scraped the picture out of its resting place with her finger nail and flipped it over. On the back of the picture, in tiny, sloppy hand-writing, was written: "I trust you. -C"

Sarah slowly looked up, her face a mix of emotions, none of them happy. She stared at her reflection in the mirror for a long time. Nothing was easy.

**Scene XLV - Chuck's room**

Later that night, Chuck lay asleep in his bed, a peaceful expression on his face. His watch sat on the nightstand with the back facing away from him. He stirred slightly, but his face remained peaceful.

Inside the watch, a tiny black plastic chip with the letters "AXG223g" in white letters was mounted on the metallic case of the watch, looking starkly out-of-place amidst the other inner workings. A little red light on the chip flashed intermittently.

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ed. Note – I originally published this episode on my LiveJournal site back in December … before "Chuck vs the Undercover Lover" came out. Imagine my surprise when they did a Casablanca theme as well.

This may be a bit egotistical, but I actually like mine better. My idea was that Bryce's Casablanca reference ("We'll always have Omaha.") showed the type of person he was; he wanted Sarah to come with him. At the end of this episode, Chuck was willing to "do the thinking for both of them" and let Sarah go, highlighting yet another difference between the two old friends.

Hope you enjoyed the story.


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